


And I will follow you into the light

by Lightlylightly



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightlylightly/pseuds/Lightlylightly
Summary: Bea is strong-armed into meeting her friend for drinks. That's all I'm saying,
Relationships: Allie Novak/Bea Smith
Comments: 72
Kudos: 66





	1. (You feel) just like the sun

The club seems to heave with people and has the kind of loud, thumping rhythm that migraines are made of. Already, Bea is regretting coming out tonight. The only thing she hates more than crowds are crowds with an obnoxiously loud backing track.

Fucking Franky and her incessant need to celebrate every damn thing. She wonders what they’re celebrating this time. A signed form, perhaps? Or maybe successfully delivered serving papers. In Bea’s experience, Franky will happily celebrate anything in order to have the ready-made excuse to down seventeen beers and end up practically humping her girlfriend on the dance floor.

Bea sighs, kneading her forehead. It’s so loud that it’s not like Bea’ll be able to actually hear whatever it is that’s being celebrated, anyway. And she’d really rather be at home, browsing for a new house mate.

Which is saying something, because she fucking hates ninety percent of the human population.

She scans the bar, wishing she’d been able to talk her way out of this. If only Franky had asked her post-coffee. Maybe then she’d have had the wherewithal to evade this. She loves Franky to death, but really? This place? She wonders if she should just duck out now before anyone sees her.

Then Franky’s distinctive voice sounds out above the din. 

“Oy, Red. Looking hot! Get ya ass over here.”

Scanning the crowd for her best friend, Bea eventually locates her, sitting at a postage-stamp-sized table, accompanied by her girlfriend, Bridget. Great, so she’s the third wheel again. Somehow Franky had forgotten that important detail when she’d been talking Bea into coming to this bar.

But she’s here now, and unfortunately she’s been spotted and can’t just back her way out of the place and claim she fell asleep or got run over by a car. She’s on Franky’s radar now. Huffing out a breath of annoyance and pushing her wild red hair out of her face, Bea begins reluctantly weaving her way through the crowd to join Franky and Bridget at their tiny, impractical table. 

“Finally!” Says Franky. “‘Bout fuckin’ time. I was about to start without ya.”

Bea gestures to the assorted selection of empties that sit next to Franky’s current, already half-empty beer, Bridget’s lone wineglass, and the plate of chips in front of her before leaning over to shout into Franky’s ear. “Yeah right. What do you call these, then?”

Franky grins. “I got bored. Between you and Bridget’s friend I’ve been waitin’ for fuckin’ ever. Besides, these are nothing’. Just...appetisers.”

Bea snorts, about to call Franky on her bullshit outright when she realises what Franky just said.

She leans over again, to yell in Franky’s ear. “Wait...someone else is coming? A stranger? You somehow forgot to mention that. This better not be another setup...”

Franky laughs. “Fuck off, Red. I’ve given up finding eligible guys for you. Besides, Allie’s a chick. And given my years of unsuccessful attempts to lure you to the lady love pool I don’t think she’s your type.”

“No shit, Franky,” Bea says, at the same time as someone else says; “Hi Bridget, Hi Franky. Sorry I’m late.”

Bea starts at the sound, her elbow knocking Bridget’s wine into Franky’s nearby plate of chips.

“Oh shit.” she says, rigid with embarrassment and stupid, irrational fear. She grabs at a nearby pile of napkins to sop up some of the mess at the same time as a warm hand lands on her arm. She tenses further and the hand drops off.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry!” Says a soft, surprisingly warm voice. “That was all my fault. It’s so loud in here I thought I’d need to shout to get anyone’s attention. But I didn’t realise how close I was standing to your ear.” The hand lands back on her arm, and Bea’s puzzled by the way the stranger’s touch both soothes her and rattles her.

Heart still thumping, Bea looks up to meet the woman’s – presumably Bridget’s friend’s – eyes.

And promptly forgets how to speak.

Bea makes a point of never seeming to pay too much attention to anyone - male or female – that Franky introduces her to, lest she get the wrong idea and try and pair them up. 

But despite all that, she finds herself unable to stop gaping at Bridget’s friend. She’s blonde, and blue-eyed, but that just makes her sound like a cliche. And she definitely isn’t.

There’s something about the concaveness of her cheekbones, paired with the trance-like quality of her blue eyes that makes her look striking and kind and warm all at the same time. And, well...

Absolutely fucking stunning

Except that those word falls short, somehow. All words do. And then an uncomfortable length of time has lapsed and she’s still just staring at Bridget’s friend like a freak.

“Hi.” Says Bridget’s friend, her eyes widening perceptibly in a way that makes Bea wonder if she’s weirded her out with her silence. Wouldn’t be the first time. “I’m Allie. Allie Novak.”

“Oh.” Says Bea, knowing she should say something else. Anything else.

But she can’t for the life of her think what.

Allie smiles at her with a warmth that seems out of place, given the awkwardness Bea seems to emit from every orifice. “I’m...assuming your name isn’t ‘Oh’?” The woman (Allie) says, smiling cheekily, her cheeks attractively rosy.

“Oh.” says Bea again. And then she flushes an even deeper red when she realises she’s just said that damn word again. In desperation, she reaches blindly around for Franky’s beer, taking a hasty swallow which promptly sends her into a coughing fit. She barks noisily for a few seconds before Allie hands her a glass of water she has seemingly procured from thin air. She drinks it carefully, not wanting to add further acts to the idiot parade she seems intent on performing.

When she looks up again, Allie is looking at her, all flushed red cheeks and blue, blue eyes and Bea has no idea what on earth she’s thinking.

“I...Bea.” she says. “I mean, my name – It’s Bea.”

Allie smiles, reaching out her hand. And after staring at it for an uncomfortably long period of time, Bea remembers then that normal human beings shake hands when they meet each other.

She wonders when she stopped fitting that classification. Was it the point at which she introduced herself as ‘Oh’, or the one where she spent half a minute coughing all over Allie.

Or maybe she’s always been this way?

Her hand is hopelessly sweaty and she wipes it off on her jeans before reaching over to meet Allie’s firm, confident handshake with her own, limp one.

“Hi Allie.” she says a little croakily, strangely relieved at managing to get those two words out in the right order.

Allie smiles, indicating the seat next to her at the tiny table. “Wanna sit?” she says.

Bea can feel herself hesitating, and she’s not even sure why. The music is quieter now. But then so are Franky and Bridget. So is everything.

Except, that is, for her perpetual awkwardness. It seems like that’s always there; tap dancing erratically inside her head.

She’s aware, suddenly that Allie is leaning in, that her warm breath is closer, and prickles of awareness spark down the back of her neck. She cannot breathe.

“Or I can yell something else in your ear and see if we can relieve Franky of her beer.” Allie says in an undertone. “She looks like she’s had enough anyway.”

“Oh.” says Bea, letting out a shocked laugh. and then mentally cursing herself again. That damn word. 

She’s suddenly faintly aware of Bridget shushing Franky, of the clamour and rattle of drinks and cutlery around them, of the thump of the beat. But then Allie’s hand lands on her arm, and it all disappears again.

She suddenly can’t remember what Allie said. At all. Which is weird, because she’s pretty sure it was brilliant and hilarious. And then her heart runs away from her and all her words get caught in her throat as Allie leans toward her again.

“Bea. Are you going to sit down? Cause I’m not sitting ‘til you are.”

Bea laughs too loudly, cringing internally at her awkwardness. “Sorry. Yeah.” She says, making fleeting eye contact with Allie’s hand on her arm before sinking into one of the tiny chairs.

Allie sits down next to her, and the smallness of the ridiculous table has their legs packed warmly together.

“Cosy.” she comments almost inaudibly.

Allie laughs. “You said it, Bea. She gestures to her long legs which Bea suddenly re-notices are wedged (by necessity, given the confined quarters) next to her. Nausea tickles through her at the warm contact, and she wonders if she’s getting sick. “I feel like a giraffe sitting here.” Allie continues

Bea smiles at her, wondering how and why she can’t say anything back. It doesn’t even need to be smart or clever, just... anything.

Except that dreaded word, ‘oh.’ That word can fuck off home.

“You’re...not a giraffe.” she says, mentally rolling her eyes at herself and her inability to do anything except state the obvious.

Allie’s eyes widen and she gasps theatrically. “Woah. Bea. You’re giving me an identity crisis here! All these years wondering why my giraffe siblings wouldn't play with me, why my neck was so short.”

Bea laughs and laughs, wondering if Allie can feel that she’s shaking slightly as she does. She never voluntarily sits this close to anyone except Debbie. Allie’s body next to hers feels incredibly warm and it’s an odd feeling, to say the least.

At some point Franky re-appears, which is weird, because Bea doesn’t remember her disappearing. Thankfully she has beer.

Bea swallows back half the bottle in one gulp, relieved to have something to doother than make herself an ever-more promising candidate for a one-women circus. Minutes later, her beer is gone.

She notices Allie’s untouched drink (not beer – maybe vodka and lemonade or maybe just water) sitting next to her empty beer bottle and flushes again.

“Sorry.” she says. “I... I don’t usually drink that fast. Long day.”

Allie cocks her head to one side, looking thoughtful. “You don’t need to be sorry.” she comments lightly. “Plus, she says, indicating the vast quantity of empty bottles next to Franky, “Judging by Franky, the beer’s good here.”

Bea snorts, taking another pull of the beer. She goes to take a second sip and is surprised to find it empty. “Judging by Franky. The beer’s good everywhere.” she says.

Allie smiles. “You mean even if it’s laced with cat piss, she’d drink it?” she says, her eyes sparkling.

Bea’s shocked laugh catches in her throat, and she succumbs to a second coughing fit. Allie immediately proffers her own drink. “It’s just water.” she clarifies. “Drink up. You clearly need it.”

Bea clears her throat anxiously, reluctant to steal Allie’s water. “You...you’re not thirsty?” she asks.

“No, I’m not thirsty.” Says Allie, flushing unexpectedly, “Drink up. You’ll feel better.”

Bea nods, and does as Allie has suggested. The coolness of Allie’s drink soothing her ragged throat. 

She stands abruptly once the glass is empty, looking down at Allie. “I -I owe you a drink, Allie.” she says, feeling strangely exposed as she says her name for the first time. What do you want? On me.”

Allie looks surprised. “Don’t worry, Bea. It’s just water. I’m not thirsty.”

Their attention is caught when across, the table, Franky starts to have an exaggerated, obviously fake coughing fit which seems to mostly consist of the word ‘thirsty” being choked out again and again. Bea blinks at her nonplussed.

“I’ll come to the counter with you, though.” Says Allie, her cheeks a little pink. “Anything to get away from the one women show that is Franky.”

Bea stands, nodding, and together, but not touching, they begin to weave through the crowds. Bea can’t help but look backward for Allie at regular intervals, aware of the throngs of humans. If it were Franky she’d just grab her hand, but she doesn’t want to weird Allie out.

They finally make it to the front of the queue and Bea orders beers for the table, and a water for Allie. 

“Sorry.” she says, as they balance the drinks between them and start heading back to the table “I know you said you weren’t thirsty, But that’s two waters you've given me now; I had to get you something. If you want something stronger later then please – my shout”

Allie smiles, her hand coming out to rub Bea’s arm, which makes Bea flush anew. “It’s fine. Bea Smith. I...actually don’t really drink. So the water’s amazing.”

“Oh. You don’t drink.” Says Bea. “Should I – should I be not drinking too? Franky didn't mention anything.”

Allie smiles, shaking her head. “Nah, it’s no biggie. It’s just I don’t have that inherent self-control thing.”

“Oh. Well good on you then. That makes you seem...strong.”

Allie smiles, her eyes going soft and something curls sweetly inside of Bea, making her feel warm. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thank you, Bea. You just made my day”

Bea reddens from head to foot. “Oh. You’re welcome?” she says uncertainly.

Allie laughs. “You’re really terrible at taking compliments, Bea.” She says.

Bea shrugs, flailing around for something – anything – that will grant her a welcome change subject. “H-how do you know Bridget and Franky?” She asks.

“I know Bridget through work.” Says Allie.

“Oh, you’re a therapist?” Says Bea, unconsciously leaning back. Her mind is suddenly full of possible diagnosis Allie could be assigning to her just from the excruciating awkwardness of the past few minutes of conversation.

Allie laughs, her hand coming out to rest on Bea’s arm. “Fuck no. I hate therapists. I just sometimes work with them.”

“What do you do?” Bea says, wondering if she’s being too nosy. How much is a fair amount to ask a person? Is she asking too much?

Does Allie think she’s asking too much? 

“Vet. But I volunteer with Bridget for animal therapy.” Says Allie. “Like, Bridget makes a referral to me if she thinks it’ll help someone and then I meet with her and the other scary shrink people to check progress, etc.”

“Oh.” Says Bea, flushing anew at her apparent inability to keep saying that damn word like a dummy. She sees Allie bite her lip and wonders if she’s hiding a smile. “I mean... interesting. What animals do you work with?”

“Dogs and horses, mostly.” Says Allie. “Others if we get allergic people but those are the two main ones.”

“Is it...is it government funded?”Asks Bea. 

Oh shit. She’s asking the most boring questions in the world. She bets if Allie were to guess her job right now she’d guess accountant or something equally monotonous.

“It fluctuates. Depends on the government of the day. But sometimes, partially. What do you do?”

Bea blinks at her, suddenly unable to remember what question Allie is actually asking her. “I need another drink.” She says, feeling a little panicked at her suddenly non-existent attention span. She gestures at Allie’s still-full water glass.

“Want another water, Allie?

Oh, shit. Shit. Of course she doesn’t. Her glass is still full, and as she’s said many, many times, she’s not thirsty. 

“Or...I mean, um maybe some food. Chips maybe?”

Allie smiles. “Won’t say no to that, but please. Let me pay. I greeted you by yelling in your ear. Feel like I kinda owe you.”

“Nah. Let me.” Says Bea. “I coughed all over you. I said the word ‘oh’ like seventeen times...and then I...”

Allie winks at her and Bea’s breath and words catch in her throat.

“Oh,” Allie says, in a voice that makes Bea think that using that word was quite intentional. The feeling is reinforced when she turns and winks at Bea again. Bea feels her breath catch in her throat, a flush making it’s way up her neck. 

“Oh my God, Bea.” She says, enunciating the word ‘oh’ with everything in her. “I can definitely beat seventeen ‘oh’s’ that if that’s the barometer for buying people food and drinks. I reckon I’ve now said ‘oh’....’oh’, about four times. Only thirteen to go.”

Bea bursts out laughing, shaking her head at Allie’s charming, funny antics. “Alright.” She says.

“’Oh’ so that is...’oh’-kay, is it?” Says Allie.

“You’re...really funny.” Says Bea, more to her feet than anyone else. For some reason looking at Allie feels a little daunting.

“’Oh’, ya think so?” Says Allie, as Bea just stares at her, unable to stop herself giggling.

She stands up, unable to repress a broad smile as she follows Allie to the counter.

The queue is really rather long and Bea wonders if they should just go back to their seats and order later. But as she’s about to suggest that, Allie asks her what she does for work.

“Hairdresser.” She says. 

“’Oh’, cool.” Says Allie, winking at Bea as she says that word, again. Maybe you can have the old college try at fixing my hair?” She continues.

“I... can’t really see your hair.” Says Bea, a little confused.

Allie’s hand comes up to touch her pulled-back hair. “Oh my god, you gave me a fright, Bea Smith! For a second I thought I’d gone bald, ya know.” 

Bea giggles, feeling foolish that that sound came out of her mouth. “I just mean your hair is tied back in a bun so I can’t see it...but it looks fine.

Allie rolls her eyes, reaching back to pull the hair tie out of her hair, shaking it out. Bea’s eyes cannot help but stare as Allie’s tosses her now very-long, slightly tangled blonde hair behind her shoulders.

“Do you see now?” she asks. “It’s a mess. I haven't cut it since the dinosaurs roamed the earth.”

It looks beautiful. Allie looks beautiful. But of course, Bea can’t say that to her new...friend? She hopes they’re friends with a yearning she hasn’t really felt before.

“It...uh...it looks fine, Allie.” Says Bea.

“Vicious lies!” Says Allie. “Unless you mean fine if you cut off... .oh, six to eight inches?”

“Nah. It really looks fine.” Says Bea. 

“Oi. Stop batting your eyelashes at each other and bring us our drinks.” Says Franky, who has appeared next to them, seemingly out of nowhere.

Bea flushes, meaning to look over at Allie and explain, she’s surprised to find the blonde’s eyes are downcast too, her cheeks distinctly rosy.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re getting there. Go bug your girlfriend some more and we’ll bring ‘em.” Bea finally manages and thankfully, Franky departs. 

Bea nudges some money into Allie’s hands once Franky has departed, feeling the need of some liquid courage.”I....um changed my mind. I don’t want a beer. Can you get me a whisky. A double.”

Allie nods, pressing the money back into Bea’s hand before she can close it, folding it shut with her own, which sits warmly atop Bea’s. “Yep. But I’m still paying for it.” She says.

Bea nods awkwardly at her, attempting a smile. But something about Allie’s blue eyes and unwavering gaze makes her twitch her hand back so swiftly that the note she has clutched in it flutters uselessly away.

“Sorry.” she says, darting away, face aflame and eyes downcast to retrieve the note. When she returns jostling her way through the assortment of people, Allie has nearly made it to the front of the line. Bea rejoins her, apologising quietly. She’s surprised into silence when Allie takes her hand and squeezes it in a near-death grip, looking up at her in anxious, wordless askance.

“Sexy...you gonna give me ya number, yeah? Because despite the fact you’re an uppity bitch, I want it. Or are you a fucking dyke?” Says a man. And suddenly Bea understands Allie’s reaction perfectly.

She turns around to face the man, pulling Allie behind her. “She’s sure.” she says, to his smug, shit-eating grin and his wandering eyes. “And-” she says, spotting the telltale glint of gold “...so’s your wedding ring.”

“Fucking bitch.” He mutters, turning away. But Bea feels a rare moment of fury build inside her. She pulls him back around by the collar of his shirt. 

“Yeah, you are a fucking bitch. So fuck off!”

He mutters something that Bea can’t entirely hear and backs away hurriedly, essentially following her instructions to a tee and she turns back around to face Allie, the man totally forgotten. 

“You okay?” she says, looking into Allie’s blue eyes.

Allie nods, looking a little flushed. “Yeah. Thanks. You were amazing.”

Bea shrugs, smiling. “Franky does the same thing for me all the time.” She says.  
Allie grins. “I bet her language is slightly more colourful.” she comments. 

Bea smiles, a little self-consciously. “Well...yeah. But Franky’s like a sailor on leave so that gives me a lot of leeway to still drop a bunch of f-bombs.”

“Thanks again.” Says Allie. “I’m usually really good at getting rid of guys like him. But today I just felt-” She shrugs, looking frazzled. “I dunno. Like I couldn’t.”

Bea wants to reach out for her hand and squeeze it, but she doesn’t have that kind of bravery inside her. So instead she pats Allie awkwardly on the soft skin of her upper arm.

“I get it.” she says. “Don’ worry. I find it much easier doing it for other people than myself.”

“Yeah.” Says Allie, her blue eyes fixed on Bea’s. “I used to do it all the time when...” she looks away. “Well, I used to be better at it.” She amends. 

Bea laughs. “I’ve never been much good at it.”

“Too long of a line of interested dudes? Must get tiring.” Says Allie.

Bea laughs. “Fuck off.” She says dismissively.

Five minutes later they return to the table awash with drinks and promises that food is on the way.

“What took ya so long?” Says Franky, reaching out to snatch her beer from Allie like it was a life source. 

“Asshole at the bar annoying Allie.” Says Bea, placing Bridget’s wine in front of her, before wedging herself back into the tiniest table in the world.” 

“Such a waste of toxic masculinity.” Says Allie, rolling her eyes. “Thank Christ Bea was there or I’d still trying to back uncomfortably back away from him.”

“Bea’s a good guard dog.” Says Franky, grinning.

Bea smiles back, taking a small sip of her drink just as Allie says “Bea’s a good everything.”

Predictably, given her coughing prowess throughout this evening, Bea’s whisky ends up being coughed back into the glass.

Immediately, Allie proffers her water.

“Thanks.” Says Bea, once the coughing has subsided. I swear, I’m not usually this out of it. It’s been...a day.”

Allie’s elbows her gently, and it zaps through Bea like bolt lightning.

“Rough day?” she asks sweetly.

“Oh yeah.” Says Bea. “I’m trying to find a house mate. But it turns out I hate people. Who knew?”

Allie laughs. “I’ve went through the same thing last year. What’ve the prospects been so far?”

Bea can feel Allie’s bare arm rubbing against her own, and she finds herself blinking furiously just to stay alert and inside this conversation.

“Um, so there was the woman who wanted to bring her seven cats.”

“She sounds promising.” Says Allie. “Always was a cat fan.”

“A pussy fan, ya mean” Franky interrupts and Allie just shakes her head at her.

“Thanks for that, Franky.” She says, 

“Ignore her.” Bea advises. “I always do.”

Allie smiles and Bea wonders what it is about Allie’s face that is so damn evocative. “Well, it is a bit of a cliche I suppose. Gay and a cat fan. Anyone got a plaid shirt to complete the cliche?”

Bea laughs, her mind preoccupied by Allie’s words, circling them, staring at them, but unable to draw any conclusions. She takes a swig of her whisky, forgetting it’s not beer, and it burns it’s way down her throat as she swallows it, making her eyes water.

At least she managed not to cough it all over Allie this time. And she feels a measure calmer as it burns its way down her belly, leaving a pleasant, lingering warmth

Allie gestures to Bea’s half-full tumbler. “Is that why you’re hitting the strong stuff, then? House mate woes?”

Bea laughs, putting the glass down a little self-consciously. “No house mates at the moment. Just...promised my daughter I’d get one now she’s gone to uni. She’s worried I’ll end up talking to myself otherwise..”

“I can think of worse conversationalists.” Says Allie. “What’ve the other prospects been?

Bea bites her lip. “There was the dude who wanted to know what bra size I was.”

“Gross. Talk about big shit energy.”

Bea cackles. “Yeah.” she agrees. “Not like I was going to go for a guy anyway ‘cause strange men scare me but still... Did he need to prove my point?”

Allie smiles. “Nope, but he did anyway. Asshole. Any promising female candidates?”

Bea furrows her brow. “I mean...you seemed to like the crazy cat women?” She says. 

Allie laughs. “So...that’s a no, then.” she says. “Man, I so would’ve finagled my way into visiting you if you’d had five cats. It could’a been beautiful between us Bea...” she teases.

Bea takes another, soothing sip of the whisky, wondering at Allie’s comment in a foggy, half-formed flush of feeling. “What, beautiful between you and the cats?” she says eventually.

Allie smirks. “Well you do seem to be the token straight person in this group, so yes.”

Bea smiles at her, wondering when the last time was that she smiled this much. “How about you? Was it like this when you were searching for a house mate last year?”

In response Allie huffs out the gustiest of sighs. “Bea, I cannot even tell you. It was borderline TRAUMATIC!” she declares. “I mean, I’m an animal lover, right. But there was this one chick who let her fuckin’ snake have free run of the house. And then there was the room that could’a doubled as Harry Potter’s cupboard. I could barely fit in there, which you of course know, given my giraffe-based origin story.

Bea laughs, taking another sip of her near-depleted whisky.. “Harry Potter’s cupboard, eh? Want to take a look at my spare room? I think it’ll even accommodate a giraffe such as yourself.”

Allie looks surprised and then a little disappointed, her cheeks pinkening attractively. “If only I’d started looking a year later... You’d be way better than my current house mate.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your housemate like?” Asks Bea

I mean he’s fine in that he’s not hiding a pet tarantula anywhere in the residence, but he’s humourless. I’m spewing out top-shelf comedy material and he just looks baffled, mostly. Which is fine, but it does make our conversations rather one-sided.”

Bea shudders. “Ugh. Shame we didn’t meet sooner. I find your jokes to be...sort of okay and you don’t seem to mind my apparent fondness for throwing drinks on you.”

Allie laughs. “Hell no, fringe benefit. Keeps me hydrated.”

A smile has crept it’s way onto Bea’s face without her knowledge, but she does her best to school it into a more normal expression. ”Well if anything falls through with your winsome room mate then consider my place.” she finally says, finishing the dregs of her whisky. 

Allie smiles at her, palming her wallet and reaching into it for a card which she places into Bea’s hand.

“Here. House mate thing is likely a no, but you’re fun. We should be friends. My cell’s on their somewhere.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” Says Bea, and for a moment their eyes meet in complete understanding.

“Well, that’s one number I didn’t think Bea’d be takin’ home tonight!” Says Franky loudly. 

Bea suddenly feels under a spotlight, and she’s very aware of her red face, of the clumsiness of her hands as she attempts to tuck the card into her wallet and instead sends it fluttering into the air. Allie goes and gets it for her, and both of them are strangely red-faced and unwilling to amke eye contact, which strangely, helps until Franky points it out.

Yup. She’s definitely going to need another drink.

Two hours into her time at this loud, obnoxious nightclub and even Bea has to admit that she’s maybe possibly doing the unthinkable... having a good time.

It’s not something she’s going to admit to loudly, and certainly not to Franky. But she does feel a certain awareness within herself. 

Mind you, that possibly correlates with the fact that she’s not seen more than a brief, sashaying flash of Franky for the past hour or so, the former being intent on showing all of Melbourne her dance skills (and dragging her slightly more contained girlfriend along for the ride). So that’s probably helped Bea’s level of enjoyment some. Because Bridget’s presence has meant Bea hasn’t had to beg off even one dance.

And then there’s the vivacious, hilarious Allie. Who might even surpass Frank-not-forcing-her-to-dance as her new favourite thing tonight. And who is currently making Bea laugh so much that she’s no longer sure if it’s the effect of alcohol, or just the effect of Allie. 

“Oh boy Bea, you’re super giggly. I’m cutting you off the whisky.”

“It couldn’a just be that you’re fucking hilarious?” says Bea, with an uncharacteristically pronounced hand gesture of dismissal (which she later thinks may be an indicator that Allie was right on the money in cutting her off from drinking more whisky).

She knocks into Bridget’s fresh, new untouched wine glass and it begins to slip forward as if in slow-motion, Bea sees what’s going to happen seconds before it does.

“Oh shit.” She says, as the wine splashes all down Allie’s front.

She seizes a wad of napkins from a nearby table, her gaze turning apologetically to Allie, who starts giggling uncontrollably. 

“Okay Bea, slight miscommunication on your part. You were supposed to whine about having the booze taken off you, not coat me with wine.”

Bea shakes her head at Allie with something like wonderment. “How are you still laughing? I threw wine all over you and you’re busily crafting...bad puns?”

“Eh. At least I’m not wearing white.” Says Allie.

Bea tries to picture what Allie would look like if she were wearing white right now, and instead of it making her giggle as expected, her gaze drawn to the sliver of pale, white-wine-slicked skin that rests next to Allie’s sodden black shirt collar.

Bemused at herself, Bea elbows Allie gently. “I know from our earlier conversation that you live a million miles away. I live nearby and I just coated you, a non-drinker, in alcohol. Wanna come change. Least I can do?

Allie looks at her thoughtfully. “I...are you sure that’s okay?” She says, all joviality suddenly gone from her face. “I get the feeling that when you haven’t had seventeen million whiskies you’re...quite a private person. I don’t want to intrude”

“You don’t count as people.” She says. “You told me earlier you were a giraffe after all. Now c’mon. I have dry shirts at home that don’t smell like overpriced wine...” she wheedles

“Well, with a sales pitch like that, who among us could resist.” Allie says

The latter part of the sentence hangs the air as Bea watches Allie collect her bag, her hair golden in the light, her jokes and eyes and kindness throughout this night slipping over Bea warmly and making her feel... well, something?

And so, those words circle again and she doesn’t even get why she’s so stuck on them, so charmed.

She follows Allie out the door, her eyes watching the neon cast on Allie’s face make her somehow appear even more luminous.

Who among us could resist?


	2. The moment (I knew)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea and Allie go to Bea's house.
> 
> They make each other uncomfortable. It's awkward. Mostly for Bea.
> 
> Bea realizes something.

Bea send a quick text through to Franky to say they’re headed off and then they make their way outside. Allie offers to order them an Uber, and Bea obliges, because despite her daughter downloading the app for her and explaining it in some detail on at least three occasions, she still has no idea how it actually works. And with her (perhaps slightly) whiskey-addled brain she really doubts that it’ll suddenly feel way easier.

Allie gets most of the way through arranging an Uber with a few quick flicks of her phone and Bea strongly suspects that if it weren’t for her part in the whole affair, they’d be home by now. That is, until Allie asks Bea for her address. Somehow, with Allie’s amused eyes and soft smile on her and the soft cast of ambient light from a nearby neon sign, Bea struggles to tell Allie where she lives. Where she’s lived for eighteen fucking years. If Allie is anything other than mildly amused, she doesn’t show it, waiting patiently as Bea wanders through the apparently impossible task of reciting her address.

She finally gets the damn thing out, apologising profusely and blaming the alcohol, and she hopes Allie buys that. But she knows, realistically that she hasn’t had that much. That a beer and few fingers of whisky shouldn’t knock her this far down.

But she can’t figure out what on earth is going on in her brain. She knows it has something to do with Allie, in particular, with Allie standing next to her. The air feels tighter, and the edges of every wall they pass feels askew, closer somehow than where they should be. She stumbles on a slightly raised door-frame as they step into the parking lot and Allie threads an arm through hers which immediately makes her tense and stumble again on absolutely nothing.

“Sorry.” Says Allie, releasing her hand. “Didn’t mean to make you jumpy.”

Bea laughs, surprised by how pitchy it sounds, but anxious to reassure Allie if she possibly can. 

“You didn’t make me jumpy, Allie. Life made me jumpy.” She says, the words out of her mouth before she can corral them and turn them into something that sounds less messy than she is.

Allie smiles, looking a little bit sad in the half-light outside their restaurant. “Yeah, sorry. Life tries that on all the best people.” She says.

Before Bea can reply, Allie’s eyes have flicked to her phone. 

“Uber’s here.” She comments, leaning toward Bea to show her the backlit screen.

It isn’t until Allie leans away to wave a red Honda over to them that she realises she’s been holding her breath. She wonders for a minute if she’s scared of Allie, but dismisses the thought almost as soon as it’s fluttered into her brain. This is not what that is. There’s too much warmth filling her after only knowing Allie for one night for it to be that. It’s more like she’s...just very aware of her. 

Once the car parks, they clamber into the back seat together and Bea realises she’s holding her breath again. She tries to expel it quietly out of the corner of her mouth, but it turns out she’s the loudest breather in the world.

Possibly the universe, even. 

And the silence in the car doesn’t help. She wishes the Uber driver would turn on some music or something so that the silence wasn’t so long and full. She looks over at Allie, but can’t meet her eyes, can’t think of a single word to say.

It feels like it has been silent for about three years when Allie finally says; “How come your daughter wants you to get a house mate?”

Bea looks up at Allie and feels warmth fill her at the kindness of that rescue-rope of a question. “Oh.” She says, flushing.

“Oh indeed! Oh to the power of oh point oh oh.” Says Allie, before continuing;” Now that I’ve said it a shitload more than you, oh, will you please answer me.”

Bea giggles, wondering at Allie’s kindness, her endless ability to put her at ease. “It was part of our agreement about her going away to university – that I’d get a house mate. She thinks I don’t socialise enough.” She says, blowing an irritating curl out of her eyes before continuing unthinkingly, “it’s been her and me since her dad...passed away when she was seven. Drunk driver.”

“Oh shit, Bea. I’m so sorry.” That must have been awful.”

”It was a long time ago.” Says Bea. Despite the alcohol still sloshing through her system and the beautiful openness of Allie’s face, she says it with with characteristic caginess, wondering how she got onto this topic. She lets the car get it’s fill of the silence because over the years she’s run out of energy to do anything but talk about it chronologically and eventually Allie, ever tactful, changes the subject again.

“Wasn’t that club awful?” she says. 

“Actual hell.” Bea agrees. “What was with those tables? They were miniscule! Did it used to be a child care centre and they just couldn’t be bothered to buy new furniture?”

Allie snorts. “Given the preponderance of alcoholic drinks, I really hope not.” she says. “But I’m glad we got to chat. You’re...a really cool person.”

Bea wrinkles her brow in confusion. “Was it the moment when I decorated you in Bridget’s wine or the one where I couldn’t stop getting you water, even though you’re not thirsty.”

Allie reddens for no reason that Bea can fathom, given that the only flaws she has listed off have been her own. 

“You are cool, Bea! You’re rude to creepy men, which is pretty much my number one box ticker, and you’re also charmingly disrespectful to Franky, which I pretty much live for.”

Bea has the good grace to look slightly ashamed. “So basically you like me because you’ve seen me being an asshole in a variety of situations?” she says.

Allie laughs. “Fuck, no. Otherwise I’d be super into that horrific guy that brought out your inner guide dog earlier. No, I like you because you’re funny-”

“Not intentionally.” Bea interrupts. “You seem to bring out my inner idiot.”

Allie smiles sweetly, her hands coming up to rub over her bare upper-arms. “You asked if you should stop drinking ‘cause I don’t. In a bar, for fuck’s sake. You’re one of the good ones, Bea.”

Bea shudders. “Oh God. Now I’m a do-gooder.” She murmurs.

Allie actually throws back her head and laughs. “Bea, you are totally shit at taking compliments!” She says. 

Bea shakes her head at Allie, stopping immediately when she realises the younger blonde is shaking slightly.

She gestures to Allie’s still-sodden top. “Oh shit. Are you cold?”

Allie smiles reassuringly. “I’m okay. It’s not far until we get to yours. I’ll be warmer there.”

Bea mutters a swearword under her breath, immediately ashamed of her lack of perceptiveness. Quickly shedding her blazer, she drapes it carefully around Allie’s shoulders. She watches with some bafflement as Allie’s cheeks redden, her eyes going to her lap, even as she wraps Bea’s discarded jacket around herself more tightly, inhaling a deeply before beaming at Bea. “Thanks Bea. You didn’t need to but...that’s really sweet of you.” 

Bea averts her eyes, embarrassed at how difficult she is finding eye contact right now. “Least I can do.” She declares. “Given I made you cold in the first place.”

Allie shakes her head at Bea. “No you didn’t.” she says, her words making no sense. What does wine do, if not make you freeze your tits off when tossed all over said body parts? She almost says exactly that, but somehow she can’t say...that? Not to Allie. Instead she bites her lip guiltily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were cold. I would have given you my coat earlier.”

Allie shrugs amiably. “It’s fine. A wet chest is a small price to pay for good conversation and company.”

Bea snorts derisively at Allie’s words. To her own mind, her performance in the past two- and-a-half hours does not deserve the title ‘good conversation.’ Good circus act, maybe? Good excruciatingly-prolonged stumble?

“I can feel your inability to take the compliment from all the way under the warm recesses of your jacket, Bea.” Says Allie. “Which is lovely and cosy.” she continues. “So thanks.”

Bea smiles at Allie, snuggled beneath her coat. The very sight of it fills her with warmth. “Yeah. Course.” She husks.

When the Uber drops them off, Allie waves away Bea’s proffered money. “Let’s just get inside so I can change, I’m freezing.” she says. Bea represses the strange urge to take Allie into her arms and instead gestures toward her house. “Sorry, yeah. It isn’t far.” she says.

She unlocks the door and flicking on the lights and turning around to face Allie. 

It makes her heart race, just having Allie here. And any welcoming words or directions she was going to give seem to waft away, unseen. It’s odd to be here, to be in her safe space – her house – with Allie, who – strangely – also makes her feel safe.

Predictably, it’s Allie who breaks the stilted silence that Bea seems to have stumbled into yet again. But unpredictably, she seems just as tense and uncomfortable as Bea is.

“Uh, do you have somewhere I can change?” She asks, holding Bea’s coat around herself herself like a shield.

Bea nods, automatically going to nearby cupboard to retrieve a towel, before ducking into her room to grab a t-shirt and jersey for Allie to wear.

“Bathroom’s just down the corridor on the left.” She says, handing the items over. “Feel free to use whatever.”

She gestures behind her to the kitchen. “I can make some coffee if you want? Or tea? Or water if you want water? Or I have milk or juice or...”

Allie’s hand emerges from underneath the pile of towel, clothing and Bea’s jacket and rests delicately over Bea’s wrist, her fingers just barely grazing it. “Coffee sounds good. Thank you.” She says sweetly, before turning around to wander down the corridor.

Bea stands in the corridor, staring at the place where Allie had been standing. She feels adrift, and she’s not even sure why. But the place on her wrists that Allie had touched, so recently, so tenderly, tingles with warmth. Eventually she gets her shit together enough to wander over to the kitchen and put the kettle on, spooning coffee into mugs and unearthing some chocolate biscuits from the back of the cupboard.

She doesn’t know how Allie takes her coffee, and she doesn’t want to bother her to check, so she puts milk and sugar on the tray alongside the biscuits, walking quickly through to the lounge to place it down on the coffee table.

She sits herself down on the furtherest side of the couch, clutching one of the cups, but somehow it feels rude to sit somewhere that Allie can’t sit next to her, so she gets up again and instead sits in the middle of the couch.

But then she’s wracked with anxiety. Is it weird to get someone who hardly knows you to sit right next to you? Will Allie think she’s a creepy weirdo? Hurriedly, Bea shifts to the furtherest side of the couch just as Allie re-enters the room in Bea’s jersey. 

It suits her, But then Bea’s starting to think a paper bag would also look stunning on Allie. That that’s just how Allie is. She gestures to the coffee and biscuits on the table and feels strangely joyful when Allie takes a mug, and a biscuit, and sits down across from her.

“That’s a nice colour on you.” Bea comments softly, unthinkingly.

Allie smiles at her, the soft skin of her cheeks reddening charmingly and Bea’s eyes skitter away from hers nervously. “Thanks. My new friend lent it to me.” She says, and for a second she looks almost...shy?

Bea smiles at her. “Only because your new friend is a total klutz and seems intent on throwing overpriced wine all over you.” She says. 

Allie smiles widely at her “I really didn’t mind.” she says. “Tonight was such a nice surprise. I’ve had one of those weeks where being spattered with wine is probably one of the better outcomes.”

Bea finds herself leaning forward a little. “Being sprayed with alcohol is a good outcome? Shit, what’s going on, Allie?”

Allie giggles. “Nothing too bad. Just cheating ex has started sniffing around and I need to find a nice way to tell her to fuck off.

Bea quietly fumes at whomever this weirdo that hurt Allie is. “I could nicely order a hit on her.” she jokes, before adding; “but seriously Why be nice? If she cheated a ‘fuck off’ is more than warranted.”

Allie shrugs. “Just easier to live with myself that way. If I’m nice about things.”

“Well, you have a nice face. Use it to tell her to fuck off.” Says Bea, the words out before she can think them through.

Allie giggles, ducking her head “That! Right there? That’s why it’s worth having wine thrown all over me.” she says. 

“Are you.... are you blushing?” Says Bea.

Allie nods ruefully, blowing the steam off her black coffee and taking a sip of it. “Yeah: Not my best look. But my gorgeous new friend just complimented me, so...”

Predictably, Bea flushes.

Unlike Allie, it’s not an attractive dash of pink high on her cheekbones. It kind of feels body-wide.

“Well now we’re both blushing.” Allie says. “Does that make it better or worse? We could form a support group now at least. Get T-shirts or bumper stickers and come up with a secret handshake.”

Bea bites her lip to stop herself giggling as she listens to Allie’s rambling. She can’t help but stare at Allie - at her new friend’s attractively red cheeks, and thinks that contrary to Allie’s earlier words, it may actually be her best look ever. But she absolutely cannot tell her that.

“Well if you stop saying nice things to me I’ll stop saying nice things to you.” She says instead. “Win-win. No blushing for us.”

Allie just shakes her head, grinning broadly. “No way, You happen to really suit red. Goes with your hair.”

Bea reaches her leg across the couch to nudge Allie in the thigh but Allie looks unbothered, happy even. When Bea retreats her leg back to her side of the couch she stretches her legs out like a cat so they almost touch Bea’s. 

It feels distracting the way everything about Allie does. But Bea is aware she’s been quiet for a while now, even more aware of Allie’s smug smile in her direction. So she throws a comeback into the ring.

“Fine then. I’m going to say nice things about you as well.”

Allie doesn’t look remotely phased “A beautiful women is going to compliment me repeatedly. Sounds like a totally shit gig. Not like I spent all my time at high school fantasizing that would happen to me one day or anything. Go on Bea, do your worst.”

Bea flushes. She’s not even sure why at this point. It might have something to do with Allie’s voice saying that word. Fantasize. 

Or maybe she’s still a little drunk.

Whatever it is, a strange joy is building inside her, wild and infectious and she can feel it unspool within her and pull tightly at her nerve endings. She’s horribly embarrassed and she may never be able to look at Allie again.

But it occurs to her suddenly, that she absolutely must look at Allie again.

And she thinks to herself, oh. That’s what this is. Shit.

Allie laughs, and it jolts Bea out of her realisation and into the present, uncomfortable moment. “Um, I’ll be back.” she says to Allie’s feet, before hurrying from the room.

She can feel that she’s sweating, and she goes into the bathroom to splash water on her red face before making a beeline for her room and pace the length of it, two times, three times, four times.

She unlocks her phone to call Franky, before changing her mind and re-locking it.

She unlocks her phone to call her daughter, before changing her mind and re-locking it.

She considers the merits of unlocking her phone to call herself and tell her earlier self to skip the bar, to skip this sudden, wild rush, and to stay in her home in her easier, bleaker, less light-filled life.

She’s tempted to stop by the kitchen and make herself another, stronger series of drinks. But unless Bea’s sudden need to flee the room has actually made Allie leave, her new friend is waiting for her out there.

And yeah. There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that beautiful Allie feel the way she does. There’s just no way. But there is a chance to be in the room with her. To take in the strange, warm feeling of just being near her and hold onto it for a bit longer.

Being around Allie may be the most awkward and baffled she’s ever felt. But she never, ever wants it to stop, so she screws up her courage, and forces herself to go back into the living room.

“Sorry.” She says, sitting herself back next to Allie, a fraction closer than she was. Because, why not?

“S’okay.” Says Allie. She gestures to the nearby shelf. “I had a great time looking at all the photos. Younger you was so cute. And Debbie is beautiful. She looks JUST like you.”

Bea smiles at Allie, and thinks, of course I’m in love with her. Of course I am. Who wouldn’t be?

“Th-thank you, Allie.” She says, reaching her foot across the chasm between them to nudge Allie’s ankle in some kind of weird gesture of thanks. Could she be any more awkward?

“No worries” Says Allie, returning the strange gesture as if it’s perfectly normal behaviour. The gentle touch of Allie’s socked foot against her own sends a strange surge of tingles through Bea, and she has to really concentrate to even hear what Allie says next. “I’m always happy to facilitate turning your face red, Bea.”

Bea smiles (because that’s a thing that her face won’t stop doing, apparently) and obligingly turns red. She gestures to her scarlet face. “Your work, I presume?” she says.

Allie grins. “If only. Your face is doing that allllll on it’s own, Bea Smith.”

“Yeah. But you said it.” Bea argues. “And now,” She continues, “I'm going to have to think say something to make you do exactly the same thing.”

Allie crosses her arms, leaning back in her seat and smirking at Bea. “Do your worst.” she says. “But remember, I’m loving every second of it.”

There’s something about Allie’s teasing smile, her wearing of Bea’s shirt and her stunning eyes that makes Bea forget what on earth she’s supposed to be doing. All that she wants right now is to lean over and kiss her, and the very thought of doing that, of even fucking wanting to do that is so confusing that she falls silent.

It’s Allie who breaks the silence, eventually.

“Wow, rude Bea. I know. It’s a tough sell. But this silence is beginning to give me a complex.”

Bea starts in alarm. Oh yeah. She was supposed to answer Allie, not just stare at her like a freak..

“Sorry.” She says, fixing her apologetic gaze on Allie’s. She nearly says that the delay is because she’s drank too much, or she’s tired. But she worries that if she says that, Allie will think she’s hinting for her to leave. Which she isn’t. Won’t. Can’t. 

She looks Allie directly in the eyes, and thinks about all the things that she wants to say. All the things that she can’t say. And then says the tiny thing that her cowardly heart will let her say in this time, and in this moment.

“Your ex was an idiot.” She says. “And I really mean that.”

She twitches a little when she sees Allie’s foot extending across the space between them, huffing out a breath of something like relief when it nudges gently against her own one.

She can’t look at Allie. But she can’t not either. And when Allie’s toes nudge further over her foot to rest gently on top of her ankle, it sends a hurtling mass of warm sparks rushing through her.

She looks into Allie’s beautiful face, and thinks, no, not her as well, surely not? She can see her red-hued cheeks, proof positive that she has somehow, again, succeeded in making Allie blush. And she can feel the spark of connection between them, something she hopes desperately is not just in her deranged head.

She feels lost, but also found and hyper-aware of Allies foot, warm against her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is broken because the world is broken and I seem to need to write, so thank goodness for this thing.
> 
> Thank you so much to those or you who commented. This has been done, but in a dis-assembled state for many days and your lovely comments helped me to finally bash chapter into something acceptable.
> 
> Title is from 'The Light' by Sara Bareilles which is my new favorite song,
> 
> I hope, hope, hope that everyone is doing okay. 
> 
> This is shorter than the last chapter, but It needed to end here because of what is hopefully (writer-willing) going to happen next.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I'd really appreciate it. 
> 
> LL


	3. Nothing better (than this)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea and Allie talk. And...just stuff, you know?
> 
> Yeah. I suck at these summary things. It isn't that long this time, so you'll know how it goes soon enough anyhow.
> 
> Title is a line from 'The Light' by Sara Bareilles.

They sit in silence, only their feet touching. But even that slight contact, socked foot against socked foot, zings through Bea like electricity.

She knows she’s being stupid. After all, what could be more innocuous? Their feet are touching. People do that all the time, right? She’s definitely kicked Franky a bunch of times (and wanted to kick Franky a bunch more on account of her being an annoying asshole) so their feet must have touched and in that case it caused no frission of electricty, no surge of joy, nothing, in fact, but extreme irritation. So touching is normal, and she should just proceed like this nothing. Like a little post-kick contact with Allie is no big deal amid the banter.

But...they’re not bantering, not moving. In fact, she cannot look at Allie at all. So she grins foolishly down at her lap and hopes she’s not being too much of an idiot.

Which seems unlikely, the more time that passes. And then Allie’s foot nudges hers again, and she looks up, on instinct.

“Hi.” She says and her mind explodes with the stupidity of her words because what the fuck, what the ACTUAL fuck. Why is she suddenly, stupidly, inexplicably saying hi to this gorgeous women who has now been in her house upwards of an hour?!

Who is probably going to up-and-leave at any second, Bea thinks, and she can feel her face becoming shiny with sweat at even the prospect. But of course Allie will leave. How else would this end but with something Which Bea does not want but cannot stop.

But strangely, Allie smiles at her. “Hi” she says softly, her foot nudging Bea’s again, so gently, and yet Bea feels it rush through her like a hurricane.

But...nicer than that. It warms her inside. It warms her in places she had forgotten could be warm and she laughs foolishly at Allie’s returned greeting, hoping that Allie can’t her the breathlessness in it. “So we’re playing footsie now?” she says. 

Allie shrugs. “You started it.” she says, her blue eyes distracting and beautiful as they meet Bea’s. “And I gotta respect it. Handshakes are so passe now, y`know...gotta keep up with the cool kids such as yourself.”

Bea giggles, wondering as she does why her laugh sounds so weird. Has she always sounded like she smokes 1,000 cigarettes a day? “You seem to have uplifting reasons for all my weirdnesses.” she says, once she remembers how to talk again. “As if they’re not just totally weird.”

Allie shrugs. “Weird is the new cool, Bea Smith. Keep up.”

Bea cocks her head to one side, frowning thoughtfully at Allie. “How’d you know my last name?” she asks.

Allie looks down, her foot retreating back from Bea’s. “I-uh-I asked Bridget.” she says. “I dunno. Just wanted to know it. Sorry.”

Bea nods, her brain spasming a bit at the realisation that she’s, probably for the millionth time today, made Allie uncomfortable. 

“I don’t...” she begins, before trying again. “I mean I wasn’t asking because I minded. I just wondered if I’d told you and somehow forgotten.”

Alie shakes her head. “Nope. Just me being a nosy dick.” she says.

“You’re allowed to be a....uh, you’re allowed to nosy.” Bea says.

Allie laughs, her legs coming out from under her to sit next to Bea’s, not quite touching. The space feels strangely large in Bea’s head, and she has to actively force herself not to stare at it.

“Did you just nearly call me a nosy dick?” Allie enquires. “Because, yeah. That’s accurate.”

Bea shakes her head, wishing her face wasn’t so into this turning-red thing. “Nope.” she says a little huskily. “I said you were allowed to be nosy. Not the same thing at all.”

“Oooh. Permission to ask you all kinds of highly inappropriate questions? I’m so in!” declares Allie.

Bea laughs slightly uncomfortably. “Not what I meant, Allie,” she says.

Allie heaves a gusty sigh. “Thought it was too good to be true.” she admits, winking at Bea.

Allie’s words and even her cheeky, adorable wink (which even Bea can tell in her odd, hyperaware state are clearly intended as a joke) sit heavily. She wonders if they mean that Allie wants to know about her. Needs to know about her. And she wonders if maybe that could be a good thing. A good sign.

Or she’s just fucking nuts. That’s also a possibility. 

And then there’s the building silence, and the fact that at some point Allie’s just going to want out of this awkward conversation. So anything that may keep her here longer feels like the right thing at this moment.

“Wh-what do you want to know.” she finally asks.

Allie looks surprised. “As established prior, I’m totally a nosy dick. But in this case, Bea, I was joking.” She says. 

Bea shrugs. “I know. But...you can ask me things. Friends ask each other things.”  
But her heart hammers and even as she says the words she’s terrified of them. Of saying things and maybe having them be heard.

Or worse, not being heard at all.

Her fear gets into the silence somehow, because she doesn’t know how to go forward from here. Doesn’t know how to stop the rattled feeling of not knowing what to say. She’s worried the silence will be binding eventually. That it’ll stick for so long Allie will eventually just go. Take her blue eyes and teasing smile, the electric excitement she brings to the air and vacate the premises.

“How old is Debbie?” Allie’s voice is soft, but it pulls Bea from her thoughts. Acting both as a balm and a distraction.

“Nineteen.” Bea says, filling immediately with a colossal sense of relief that she hasn’t driven this late night...whatever-it-is into the ground.

“Wow.” says Allie. “I mean, that tracks because you told me she was at uni. But seriously Bea. What’s your secret? You don’t look old enough to have a nineteen-year-old.”

Bea smiles, ducking her head at the compliment in a failed bid to hide her reddening cheeks. “I had her young.” she says. “”Feel like it all went by in a flash, though.” 

“I can’t even imagine having sole responsibility for another person.” Says Allie. 

“She was an easy kid. I was lucky.” Says Bea lightly. 

“Or she just had a good mum.” Says Allie,

Bea just shakes her head. “No. I mean, I did my best but like I said I got pregnant young. Harry, her dad was.... well, I didn’t give her an easy start.

“was he...was he young too?” asks Allie, her foot nudging gently back into Bea’s 

The gentle contact of Allie’s foot on hers is strangely soothing, and morewords come out of than ever before about her late husband. “Harry was...well, not as young as me. But...he had some issues. He drank.” Bea finds herself fidgeting a little as the words come loose, her hands instinctively tugging her sleeves down over her wrists.

And suddenly, Allie is shifting across the couch to sit next to Bea. When she reaches out a warm hand to rest on Bea’s arm, Bea huffs out a shocked breath, turning to face Allie.

Allie’s eyes look at Bea with incredible tenderness. “He hurt you. And he shouldn’t have.” she says softly, the hand not on Bea’s shoulder reaching down to stroke gently at Bea’s wrist. It’s not a question.

Bea’s heart sinks, and she’s barely aware of her shoulder shaking Allie’s arm off, her hands withdrawing from Allie’s soft touch. Her mind sinks and she can feel the blood leaving her face waxen and pale. She swats at the suddenly thick layer of sweat on her forehead, wondering if she is going to be sick. She wants to scream. The whole conversation is down the toilet. Because somehow Allie read that in her. Does she telegraph it? Does everyone know? She licks her dry lips.

“Did you ask Bridget that, too?” Bea attempts to joke but the words are hoarse with shock, and fall flat, sending the conversation spiralling into silence.

Bea knows Bridget didn't tell Allie that. 

Nobody told Allie that.

Nobody fucking KNOWS that, except Bea.

And she sure as shit hasn't told anyone.

Allie’s voice, when she speaks, is soft. “No, she didn’t – she wouldn’t.” She says quietly.”It used to happen to me, though. And on my bad days, I get jumpy too. I worked on the streets and guys used to get...rough. So I recognised it, if that makes sense. Or just thought I did.”

The mere admission from Allie’s lips makes Bea forget that the conversation is sunk, forget that she’s hopelessly exposed, forget so many other things except how to lean over and take Allie’s hand in her own and pressing it gently between her fingers. “Shit, Allie, I’m so sorry.” she says

“I’m sorry it happened to you, too.” Says Allie, squeezing her hand in kind. “Does anyone know?”

Bea bites her lip. “Maybe Deb remembers? She awknowledges. “I don’t think she does. She was really young when he passed. She’s never said anything, and she’s a happy, well-adjusted kid.” She reaches for her now-cold coffee and clasps it in her hands, just for something to hold onto.

Allie reaches out a hesitant hand, and then retreats it. “I...I want to give you a hug, if that’s okay.” she says. “I dont want to end up with whatever is left of your coffee slopped down my front. You’ll think I’m bad luck or something.” 

Bea laughs, but kind of wants to cry. “Or you’ll think I’M bad luck.” she says, putting the cup down on the table and turning awkwardly to face Allie, unable to look her in the eye. “And uh...yeah, a hug is okay.” she says quietly. “Your shirt is safe for now.”

Allie chuckles, folding Bea carefully into her arms, either not noticing or not minding that Bea is shaking slightly in her arms. They rest against each other for several moments of silence, and Bea breathes out a sigh of exquisite relief\\. She starts a little in Allie’s arms when she feels warm breath tickling her neck. “Well technically it’s your shirt.” Says Allie, her voice low and warmer than usual.

Bea has no idea what Allie is talking about, but finds that she doesn't really mind that as usual she has zero idea what is going on. She’s happy right now to stay tucked in Allie’s arms, her fragrant hair tickling Bea’s cheek and neck, her warmth and softness a respite from, well...everything. A strange, unfamiliar but utterly welcome sensation has grounded Bea for the time-being – the feeling that everything is going to be okay.

It’s as unfamiliar as it is addictive.

It’s Allie who pulls back first, and it immediately sends a frission of anxiety running through Bea. Was she hugging Allie for too long? Holding on too tight? She flattens her hair nervously, eyes fixed on her lap.

“So...” says Allie and Bea twitches her eyes upwards to meet Allie’s eyes and feels her already erratic heart accelerate further.

God, she’s beautiful. It’s nearly obnoxious how lovely she is to behold. So distracting.

“Earth to Bea?” Says Allie, waving her hands in front of Bea’s face. 

Bea starts, giggling. “Sorry. Must be getting tired.” she lies

“I can always go, if you’re tired.” Allie says quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to deprive you of sleep.”

Anxiety makes Bea reach out her and and grasp Allie’s hand tightly in her own. “Not what I meant, Allie.” she says. And while she’d love to say something – anything – to clarify that statement, her mind is empty of any follow-up. God, she’s hopeless that this adult-conversation bullshit.

“Are you okay?” Allie says, and Bea realises she must be tuning her out again. “Sorry – yeah. I’m good. You’re good, Allie... you’re-” Bea finds herself trails off, unsure what she should say. 

...Beautiful? 

....tranfixing? 

...Utterly distracting? 

...Totally fucking gorgeous?

She reddens, as if Allie can read her mind. “You’re great to be around, Allie, so calming.” she says, forcing her flush-filled face to meet Allie’s eyes.

Allie smiles widely. And Bea wonders if she said more than she intended. 

Or, maybe all it takes to make Allie happy is something this small and simple.

“Thanks.” Says Allie. “It’s the superior company of yours truly.”

Bea snorts dismissively. And then wishes she was one of those people who didn't snort in public. “Want expensive wine splashed down your front? I’m your woman.” she jokes.

Allie giggles, her face reddening a little. “But seriously, are you okay? About what I said. What you told me? Obviously I’m not even telling my cat about it because it’s your info. But if you want to talk about it...” she shrugs. “Well, I’m here. And I think you should talk about it with someone. It’s a lot to hold onto on your own.” her hand reaches out for Bea’s and strokes it softly, sending Bea’s brain skittering sideways in delight, despite the fact she’s talking about Harry. “How long has it been, since he died?” Allie asks.

“Fifteen years. And, um –“ she hesitates and then plows onward “He was the drunk driver. I never tell people that part and because my friends didn’t know me back then they assume it was some stranger. But it was him. He drank too much, beat me up, and drove off.’” Says Bea. “I always thought I’d die if anyone knew but...It’s a bit of a relief that you know, strangely.”

“Well, we’re both survivors.” says Allie. “Nothing to be ashamed of unless you’re him – absolutely nothing. It makes you strong.”

“Will...will anyone else be able to guess, do ya think” asks Bea,

Allie shrugs. “I doubt it. I saw it because I can’t seem to stop staring at you.”

Bea blinks into suddenly bogged-down, red-cheeked silence, Her heart thuds, and she knows her face is raddish-red, her mind in total and utter overdrive.

Allie curses swiftly under her breath. “Shit. And you’re the one whose been drinking so I don’t even have an excuse for...laying that on you.” she says.

“and” she continues to ramble into the knuckle-clenching air. “I’ve now made a total shit of myself for no reason. I know – you’re straight. I respect that. I’m not trying to mean anything by it. It’s just how I feel. But you’re so cool you’d be an awesome friend and that's all I need, really. A friend like you.”

Bea remains stupefied, unable to speak or indeed draw breath.

The silence pervades the air like a particularly thick smog. And for a while they both sit in the depths of it. Bea can hear her heart hammering and she doesn’t know which way is up or which way is down. But there’s something surging through as well. It’s warm and powerful and it’s trying to break through all the fear and pain and toxic mould that she’s been holding onto for all these years.

“I can go.” says Allie, dropping Bea’s hand and wiping her own, newly, sweaty one on her jeans. She rises in her seat, her profile casting a shadow over Bea “I...I’m sorry. I just want to know you, really.” Allie continues. “I just find you... an amazing person.” Allie finishes. And there’s something in her tone that’s like a goodbye.

Panic floods Bea that somehow this might be over. Especially as she didnt know until Allie’s slip-up that there was any chance of this – of them being something - together. She clears her throat, but when she speaks she sounds hoarse and uncertain and she hates herself for it. She wants to sound sure.

“Allie, I...I-.” She shrugs helplessly, aggravated and scared by her own inability to express herself. Short on words, she stands, clutching Allie’s hand in hers, and holding on more tightly than she means to.

“Sit down. Please.” She says, managing, somehow to deliver three coherant words in a row. And Allie, her face a heartbreaking picture of sombre acquiescence, does just that. Though she sits herself as far back from Bea as their joint hands will allow, Her beautiful face pale. Her achingly blue eyes wide and worried-looking. 

Bea shuffles a little closer to Allie, and she’s not surprised to find she’s shaking like a leaf, but she is surprised that it doesn’t stop her from dropping Allie’s hand gently and reaching out to cup her cheeks between her hands.

Allie’s eyes meet hers immediately, and somehow Bea loves her even more for how shocked she looks right now; how baffled and flushed and uncertain. How beautiful. She sees Allie start to speak and stop, and she feels her own mouth gaping and closing in a corrrespondingly goldfish-like-manner. Apparently neither of them have the right words.

I like you, Bea wants to say. But she can’t even get that out, so the ‘I love you’, that she yearns to vocalise is looking like a lost cause. And how can she know that, feel that, so very quickly? When her whole life it’s been so absent she didn’t even notice.

Too busy ducking punches, maybe. Too busy keeping secrets and covering scars – in short, too busy surviving. And once he was gone, his shadow was not. 

So she was in stasis. Maybe she still is because they’re so close together now, but she’s too terrified to look into Allie’s eyes now - and just – thrive.

She leans in a little further and the feel of Allie’s hot breaths on her face inadvertently makes her eyes flick downward to Allie’s lips – so full, so tempting. She wants to touch them and a part of her is shocked at herself – she’s not into any of this...stuff. She never was. Harry used to say she was frigid. Franky often calls her a tightarse. Her daughter says she’s antisocial and keeps suggesting she gets a cat. Bridget just says she has good boundaries, which even Bea knows is a little too tactful to be true.

Bea flicks her eyes back up to meet Allie’s and finds that Allie is looking right back at her. Allie looks baffled and shocked and... hopeful and somehow that feels perfect to Bea, because it is how she feels as well. But she also feels so many other things. There doesn’t seem to be any way to get the words out of her numb mouth. She doesn’t have the words, she doesn’t have any of them. 

She finds herself sliding one hand off Allie’s cheek to stroke through her soft hair, and husks out a sigh of surprise when Allie murmurs breathily at the contact, her eyes sliding shut. The everything of this moment is something Bea knows she will hold onto forever, even if it is fleeting. Her heart thuds and she tries desperately to see it all at once and take it in properly. Even if it never, ever happens again, she must remember this. It’s a high she’s never felt before - an absolute thrill of feeling like no other. That she gets to be in this moment with Allie is the most unfamiliar, heady rush she’s ever felt. 

That she’s here, seeing it and feeling it and just being in this moment makes her smile as she pulls Allie’s face toward her own gently, pressing careful kisses that make her head spin and her heart race to the apples of Allie’s cheeks, to the tip of her nose, to her chin, to the softness of her forehead.

Until finally she can’t resist anymore. Until Allie's ragged breaths and soft, irresistible moans tell her that neither of them can.

And then their lips meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the people who gave feedback. It's such a weird time, isn't it? I go between writing furiously and entirely forgetting about it when things make me sad or worried. I really hope everyone is okay. I really hope you're staying inside (or well protected if you're essential) and that your friends, family and other dear ones are all in good health too. 
> 
> I'd love the hear what you think of this.
> 
> Stay well everyone. I'm hoping to update my other fic first, and then get onto the final chapter/s? of this.


	4. Here with you now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. Bea and Allie kiss and talk and kiss and talk and kiss and talk.
> 
> Oh. And get interrupted. That happens too.
> 
> I know, I said this was the last chapter. Evidently I lied. There will be at least one more.

When their lips finally meet it is a relief like no other. The heat of their joined mouths makes Bea’s head spin, and it feels like every point of contact between them hums with a suppressed need that makes Bea tangle her hands into Allie’s hair and sigh gratefully into her lips. It all uncoils joyfully within her, and an instinct she never knew she had makes her making pull at Allie’s waist to press their bodies closer. The kiss gives her things no other has – both suffusing her with heat and grounding her like nothing has in years, an anchor and a promise. Quite simply, it’s the best thing she’s felt since she held her new baby girl in her arms.

She finds her hands act on their own to pull to pull Allie against her more tightly and the more she feels the more she wants to feel. She hopes Allie doesn’t mind her wandering hands, for she finds that cannot help but run them over Allie’s shoulder and back in anxious, needful exploration. 

It’s Allie who pulls back first. And it puts Bea on her metaphorical back foot more than anything has since....well, since Allie first appeared in her life. She can’t imagine not knowing her now – and maybe that’s why it feels like forever ago, even though it was only really a matter of hours. Bea flushes, wiping her mouth and averting her gaze, but even as she does she makes a silent promise to herself that she will hold fast to the lingering tingle in her fingers and lips that their kiss left behind..

Fixing her gaze on her lap, she tries to think of something to say, but she finds she cannot say a single damn word. Instead, she sits in the building question mark of their mutual silence, gasping in oxygen in an unsuccessful attempt to steady her breathing. It’s a smaller reassurance than it should be that she can hear Allie trying and failing to do the same thing.

“That was... amazing.” Says Allie, her voice low and beautiful. The words free Bea enough that she can look up and half-smile, half-gape at the younger blonde. Looking at Allie anew sends a rush of joy through her, because Allie’s hair is long and tangled where Bea’s hands hadn’t been able to resist tousling it and it’s a nice reminder,

“Yeah?” Bea says filled with awkward uncertainty and hopeful joy. “I mean, for me it was. But...for you too?”

Allie’s lips are on hers again, her warm fingers stroking Bea’s cheeks and it’s the nicest surprise Bea’s ever had, but it’s over too soon. Then Allie retreats backward a little, so their legs are no longer touching. Bea feels the loss of contact more acutely than she should. Misses Allie’s warmth even as she catalogues that it is ridiculous to miss the person sitting right next to you.

“Sorry.” says Allie, gesturing to the space between them. “I just thought we should...talk, if that’s okay. I want to make sure you know that I like you...I mean, I really like you. And I want to make sure that you’re not just doing this because you had a few drinks. Or because...” she averts her eyes, her fingers tangling together so her knuckles turn white. “...because you’re just being nice.” she says, looking up at Bea, uncertainly.

“I’m...I’m really not that nice.” says Bea, “I...in case the- “she flushes, forcing herself to meet Allie’s eyes. “In case the kiss didn't tell you, I like you too.” she concedes shyly, thinking that that may be the biggest understatement she’s ever spoken. She wants to say more, but then Allie’s hand grasps hers, and her mind is spinning joyfully at even that small, tame contact. 

Allie’s hands stroke softly over Bea’s hands and it sends her brain skittering sideways, making Bea feel flushed anew, and fighting the strange, new urge to press Allie against her and kiss her again and again.“But you’ve had a few.” Allie continues softly. “And, you know, I don’t want to you to hate me tomorrow. I couldn’t stand that.” she says, and Bea knows she’s telling the truth, because her voices pitches upwards, reedy with anxiety, before she continues to speak, “I know this is new to you – kissing a girl. So whatever you want or don’t want is fine. And if you want to wait and review this tomorrow, that’s fine. Anything is fine.”

“I haven’t drank that much.” Says Bea softly. “I know the fact I keep acting stupid and clumsy might make it seem otherwise but that’s just...being around you. You...you make me nervous” she confesses

Allie’s face pinkens and she leans in to press her lips to Bea’s cheek with such sweetness that it makes Bea want to cry. When Allie’s lips then move lower to press against her chin and neck Bea gasps and Allie winks at her in a way that catches hotly within her. 

“Thank fuck it isn’t just me. “says Allie, leaning back to meet Bea’s eyes. “You give me goosebumps.” she adds, taking Bea’s hand in her own and running it gently down her arm so Bea can feel them. 

Bea smiles, letting her hands run up and down Allie’s arms, even after Allie releases them from her hold. “It’s not just you.” she says, feeling a shock of confidence run through her. “It’s been...I’ve been a mess since I saw you.”

Allie smiles up at her, looking so happy it makes Bea question what she’s just said. Wonder if she accidentally offered her a million dollars or a free car, instead of just admitting she had a crush on her. And then Allie speaks. “Oh Bea, babe. Me too. God so many times tonight just looking at your eyes has made me lose my train of thought. It’s the stupidest I’ve been over someone in...God, maybe in forever?” she confesses, beaming widely at Bea. “It was like that the second we met, too. I remember making eye contact with you and just...feeling completely sunk by you.”

“Yeah. Me as well.” Bea says, wishing she was more articulate. Wishing she could say what she wanted. But her heart is thumping as she returns Allie’s heady gaze and the words get lost. “I mean, so we can...if you want, I mean...”

Allie looks up at her, a teasing half-smile on her face. “We can what?” she says.

Bea can’t say the words. “You know...” she says, too, embarrassed to say the words.

“God, you’re even more gorgeous when you’re embarrassed.” says Allie. 

Bea laughs hoarsely, wanting to tell Allie how beautiful she finds her, but feeling hopelessly shy, hopelessly naive. She shakes her head at Allie and tries to be brave.

“If you want....we can kiss some more.” she says huskily, her hands finding Allie’s and squeezing them gently. 

The breath is taken from her when Allie shuffles inward a little, and suddenly their foreheads are touching and Allie’s hands are in her hair. “Bea Smith, you’re so beautiful.” says Allie softly.

Allie’s words fill Bea with courage and she presses herself against Allie, tethering their bodies together by wrapping her arms tightly around Allie’s neck. “You are too.” she confesses lowly, and then they’re kissing again.

When they part, they barely separate, breathing in each other’s spent air, because they’re both so reluctant to initiate any sort of distance.

“God, I’m so into ya..” Allie says, leaning her face into Bea’s neck and inhaling. “And of course you smell fucking amazing too.” she adds, in an aggrieved undertone which Bea suspects she wasn't really supposed to her. It ripples warmly through her, though. It’s nice and so unfamiliar that even the muttered undertones are compliments.

Bea smiles, unsure how to compete with Allie’s ease of praise. “I’m so glad I went out tonight.” She says.”I hate places like that. I was so close to cancelling. But then I saw you and kinda...lost my mind.”

Allie smiles, pressing a generous, breathless kiss to Bea’s lips. “Same. And then I got really annoyed with Franky for pointing out how obvious my crush was. God, she’s an obnoxious dickhead when she wants to be.”

Bea blinks, nonplussed. “I didn't even notice Franky.” She says. “What’d she say?”

Allie shrugs, pressing a kiss to Bea’s cheek. “You mean my massive burst of anxiety was for no reason? Yeah, that tracks actually. She just kept saying I looked thirsty and making jokes about us.”

Th-thirsty?” says Bea, her mind finally registering the Franky-toned double meaning. “Oh, that’s why you kept turning red. I thought it was just me making you uncomfortable with my endless awkwardness. You know, saying ‘oh’ so many times I should have registered a fucking trademark.” she explains.

Allie giggles and the sound makes Bea smile. “I mean, you made me hot and bothered, yes. And I thought you were just the cutest thing ever when you blushed and fumbled and threw drinks on me. But...Uncomfortable, no.” Says Allie. Smiling as the flush rises high on Bea’s cheeks.

“God, I love it when you turn red.” Allie says, pressing a swift kiss to each of Bea’s crimson cheeks. 

Bea rolls her eyes in a brave attempt at sarcasm, but her racing heart isn't in it and her cheeks are two bright patches of colour and warmth where Allie kissed them. “Good news is I seem to do that a lot around you.” she says in an attempt at wryness that is just a little too joyful to be believed

Allie smiles, weaving her hands around Bea’s neck and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Good. Means I distract you. Gives me hope that you’ll keep liking me.” There’s a thread of unfamiliar nervousness in Allie’s voice and it twitches Bea into awareness and she hugs Allie, tightly against her, awash with hope.

“Course I will.” she says quietly. 

“Oh. Good. That’s good. We’re...uh, we’re...good?” Allie rolls her eyes at her seeming inability to speak. “Sorry. I swear I can usually talk in full sentences and use a variety of adjectives.” she says.

Bea smiles, letting her hands come out to cup Allie’s face in her hands, forcing the younger blonde to look at her. “Then you’re doing better than me.” she says. “At least you haven’t thrown a drink on me yet.”

Allie smiles. “Well, the night is young and my heart is beating really fast right now, because you’re touching me. I’d keep any liquids away from me right now just to be on the safe side.” she says, and that statement registers strangely in Bea, makes her yearn to kiss Allie. 

She pulls Allie into a hug, and she’s surprised to feel Allie shivering against her. “Are you okay?” she asks. “You’re shaking.” She runs her hands up and down Allie;’s back, hoping to help her and they remain cuddled together until Allie begins to shift backwards to meet Bea’s eyes.

Allie nods, her eyes darting between Bea’s. “Yeah. Just...I know this is new. Even newer for you in some ways. But...I really like you. I want us...” she flushes. “I want you to still like me tomorrow. And all the days after that.” she says quietly. “Which is crazy because I literally just met you. But It’s-” she shrugs, looking a little rattled. “It’s how I’m feeling.” she admits quietly.

Bea smiles, relief surging through her. “Me too.” she says quietly. “Which means I owe my daughter twenty bucks because I told her that this sort of thing isn’t a thing and she disagreed,” 

Allie presses a kiss to Bea’s cheek that makes her want many more. “What isn’t a thing.” she asks, and Bea can feel her whole body flush at the rich teasing tone of her voice.

“Uh. You know. Seeing someone. And just...knowing.” She will not say that word, however much it hangs in the air. They met tonight. They only met tonight and Allie will think she’s an insane person.

Allie smiles sincerely. “I can second that.” She says, her hands coming up to stroke through Bea’s hair. “Do you mind me touching your hair?” she asks, her fingers combing through it gently. “I’ve wanted to for hours now.”

Bea smiles a little shyly, her heart beating a bit more erratically at the thought of Allie wanting something that's so small and sweet. Something that feels so nice. “It’s messy. But no, I don’t mind – I – I like it when you touch me.

It feels a strange thing to admit, because Bea has always shied away from affection, even with her close friends. She hugs her daughter, but she tries to keep an arm’s length with everyone else. 

Except Allie. Apparently. She just wants her around. Near her. With her. It’s a strange, new brand of soothing. It feels like she can never see, know or learn enough about her.

“Allie?” She asks.

“Mmm?” Says Allie, her eyes warm and affectionate, her fingers continuing to sift gently through Bea’s hair.

“Can you tell me things, too? About you? I wanna know about you.”

Allie presses a kiss to Bea’s lips that somehow grows into several and when they break apart, they’re both grinning and panting. “Course.” Says Allie, stealing one more kiss. “Can I ask you some things too? Question time with your favourite nosy asshole.” She adds. 

Bea smiles shyly, a little nervous. “Okay.” she says simply.

“Hmmm. Favourite colour?” Allie asks.

Bea almost rolls her eyes, because she’d expected something much...harder or more personal. “Blue.” Says Bea, unthinkingly.” She’d not really considered her favourite colour since she was a child but with Allie’s eyes in staring distance, there is no other possible answer. What’s yours?”

Allie shrugs, her hands tickling at the hairs at the nape of Bea’s neck. “what colour are your eyes? That colour. That’s my favourite.” she says.

Bea husks out a laugh, “hazel, I guess?” She says. “Favourite food.”

Allie answers immediately. “Ice cream. I mean what else could it be?”

Bea smiles and shakes her head. “That’ doesn’t count. It’s not really a food.” she says.

“It counts.” Says Allie. “Anything that you can’t drink counts as food.”

Bea smiles. “My daughter used to melt ice cream in the microwave and drink it.” she counters. “What do you call that?”

“Um. Food science?” Says Allie, heavily emphasizing the word food. Bea rolls her eyes, failing to hide a smile that seems to be permanently fused to her face. “What’s yours?”

Bea shrugs. “Probably pizza. More because I associate it with my daughter than anything else. It used to be our go-to takeaway when she lived at home.”

Allie’s presses a kiss to Bea’s hairline, moving her hands away from Bea’s hair to stroke along Bea’s upper back. “As if you weren't already a women after my own heart.” she says. “Naming pizza as your favourite makes you irresistible.”

“What if I’d said deep fried shit or something?” says Bea.”

Allie gives Bea a careful, purposeful once over, letting her eyes move over her with such a sultry, admiring look that Bea is transfixed. “You’d still be irresistible to be honest. Have you seen you?”

Bea doesn't know quite how to respond to that. She colours, bites her lip, and smiles shyly back at Allie who just shrugs. “Just telling the truth, Bea.” she dismisses. “Anyway it’s your turn What’s your question?”

Bea bites her lip. She knows what she wants to ask her next, but she doesn’t know if she has the guts.

“It’s sort of personal.” she hedges.

“Bea Smith wants all up in my business.” Allie crows, seemingly to herself.

“Allie Novak appears to be bragging about me to...herself.” Bea says back.

Allie’s hands cup the back of Bea’s head, massaging it softly as she pulls her in for a kiss that tingles all the way to Bea’s toes.

“Damn straight I’m bragging. You’re gorgeous and you’re letting me kiss you. Now ask away, beautiful.”

Bea can’t help but lean back into Allie to press another kiss to her lips. It lasts longer than she means it to, and when they part they’re both breathless. Once Bea gets her breath back, she asks Allie her question. “When...when did you realise you were gay?” she asks.

Allie’s forehead wrinkles adorably. “I would have been about twelve, I guess. I had a ridiculous, unrequited crush on my best friend. When I was fourteen I met my first girlfriend, Eileen. It ended pretty quickly though”

“Bea’s hand falls around Allie’s shoulder before reaching up to curve into Allie’s hair, stroking it softly. “What happened?” she asks gently.

Allie smiles a little sadly. “We were at my house. I told my mum we were doing a school project, but being typical bloody teenagers we were kissing in my bed. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but it was the first time my dad walked in on us.” She shudders. “It was awful. He screamed at me, screamed at her until she left, totally whaled on me and then kicked me out of the house the same night. I’ve not seen him since.”

Bea can feel useless tears welling in her eyes at the thought of a fourteen-year-old Allie beaten, bruised and out on the streets. “Jesus, Allie. I’m so sorry.” She says, instinctively pulling Allie sideways onto her lap and pressing kisses to her face. She pictures Debbie at fourteen, and the tears turn quickly to anger at the idea of anyone doing that to a child. “Your dad sounds like an absolute shit.” she says, aware that she sounds infuriated

“He was.” Says Allie. “Before all that even, he was a judgemental jerk.” she says, looking at Bea’s wild eyes and running a hand through Bea’s hair in an apparent effort to calm her. “I’m okay now, Bea.” She says soothingly. “Better than okay.”

“You’re exceptional.” Bea says, reaching a careful hand out to run down Allie’s cheek, listening with surprised joy to Allie’s sharp intake of breath. She feels emboldened, and lets her hand continue to run down Allie’s neck, to rest along her her exposed collarbone.

“You-you know that’s really distracting, right?” Says Allie, her voice a little lower that usual, her eyes darker as they meet Bea’s.

Bea laughs, feeling unduly pleased with herself but removing her hand. “Sorry. You’re...really beautiful.” she says. 

Allie reaches for Bea’s hand, placing and ever so slightly open-mouthed kiss on it and smiling. “Quit talking about yourself, Bea.” She says teasingly.

Her blue eyes are sparkling and it suddenly seems completely insane to Bea that Allie is literally sitting on her lap, and they’re not kissing.

The idea must hit them both at the same time, because when Bea leans in, she discovers that Allie has met her halfway. They let out mutual gasps of appreciation as their mouths meet and she feels dizzy when she feels Allie wriggling in her lap so that she sits with a leg either side of Bea, her hands wrapped around Bea’s neck, her hair sweet-smelling hair and luscious body seemingly everywhere at once.

She hears a faint, buzzing sound but doesn’t really register it, her hands in Allie’s hair, her lips pressing kiss after kiss to her irresistible neck. “You smell amazing.” she comments roughly, at the same time as Allie says, breathily, “Is that your phone, beautiful?”

It takes Bea a second to register anything but the beautiful breathlessness in Allie’s tone, and the warmth of her beautiful body in her arms. And then she freezes, listening to the ringtone. “Shit. Sorry, Allie. That’s my daughter’s ringtone. I gotta get this. But I don’t know where the fuck I put my phone.”

Allie nods, slipping off Bea’s lap and helping her to search under couch cushions and assorted clutter for her phone, before Bea eventually realises it is in the bag at her feet. She answers it hastily and breathlessly.

“Hello Deb. You okay, kiddo?” she husks breathlessly.

“Hi mumma. Sorry, I know its late... or, well I guess it’s early now, actually.” Says Debbie, her voice a little high-pitched. 

“It’s fine.” Bea dismisses. “You okay kiddo?”

“It’s really stupid.” Says Debbie. “It’s no big deal whatsoever. I’m just....” she breaks off, sounding sheepish. “I just had a bad day, and I have my period, and I made a fool of myself in front of a really cute guy, and now I have horrible cramps and I want a mumma-hug and feel really sad you aren't there to give me one.”

“Oh honey-” Says Bea, sitting herself down and unthinkingly taking Allie’s hand in her own. “I’m so glad you called. I’m so sorry. Do you have painkillers? Do you have a phone number so I can put a hit on this guy for making you feel like a dork? I wish you were home so I could make you a hot water bottle”

“Yeah. I took some ibuprofen. It’s just taking bloody forever to take effect.” Says Debbie. “I’m so sorry I just looked at the time and it’s like 2am. Did I wake you, mumma?

Bea looks up at Allie, squeezing her hand more tightly than is likely comfortable. “Uh...no, you didn't wake me.” she says, her voice suddenly becoming that of a pre-pubescent boy’s. I...uh...I was up.”

“Holy shit, mum! Do you have a boy over?” Says Debbie sounding utterly jubilant.

“Language, Deb!” says Bea, feeling her face heating up. She squeezes hoping to avoid the subject.

“Uh-uh.” Says Debbie. “Nice try mumma. Now answer me. Do you have a boy at your house?”

Bea bites her lip anxiously, suppressing the ridiculous urge to giggle and squeezing Allie’s hand again. “No honey, I do not have a boy over.” she says. She cannot look at Allie.

Debbie’s disbelieving laugh echoes down the phone. “I don’t believe you, mumma. I’ve so busted you. You better not be playing semantics with me and calling him a man not a boy or whatever. Do you have another person there in the room with you right now?”

Bea laughs, a bit freaked out, but utterly unwilling to tell a lie to her daughter. “Uh...yeah. There’s someone here with me” she says.

Suddenly the dial tone is sounding in her ear, and Bea looks frantically at her phone and then at Allie. “Shit! Caught by my kid. Who then hung up on me, Do you think she’s mad at me?” she says.

Allie looks equally freaked out. “Shit, I hope not. I want to make a good first impression.” she says anxiously. “Could you try calling her back. I can talk to her.” She says, looking terrified at the very idea, but showing endearing willing to talk Bea’s daughter down.

Just as Bea is debating what to do, her phone rings again. She glances at it. “Shit. Video phone.” She says to Allie. I gotta answer. “You...you can hide in the kitchen if it’s a bit too much.” she says uncertainly.

Allie presses her lips swiftly to Bea’s cheek. “It’s okay. I’m in this. Answer your phone.” she says, but Bea can feel that she’s shaking a little next to her. So she grabs Allie’s hand in hers and squeezes it tightly, using her other hand to unlock her phone, angling it away from Allie’s face so only her own is visible.

“Hi Deb, you nosy little brat.” She says.

“Hi mumma. This I had to see. Who’s your friend?” Says Debbie immediately.

Bea looks over at Allie, who is still off-camera, and cocks her head to one side in a questioning fashion.

They’re one night into this, and a part of Bea thinks that it’s far too much to ask, and she should just move rooms and let Allie off the hook, but Allie merely smiles at her, shrugging and moving herself into the frame to sit next to Bea. “Busted.” she says sheepishly. “Hi Debbie. Wow, you look so much like Bea. I’ve-um – sorry for the cliche but I’ve heard lots about you.”

Debbie blinks into the camera, her mouth agape. “Holy shit, mum. Do you like girls now? Are you two dating? How long has this been going on? When were you going to tell me?”

Bea can feel her face flaming, but she squeezes the crap out of Allie’s hand and answers Debbie as best as she can. “Um...apparently? It was news to me too, Deb. We only met tonight..” She says. “It’s really new. So be nice.”

“Holy shit. Have I interrupted my mum having a hookup?” Says Debbie, her face mock-horrified. “God, mum if that’s the case I can just hang up now and let you get back to it.”

“No way!” Says Allie, at the same time as Bea says “Gross, Deb, No!”

In response, Debbie just cackles. “Soooooo much fun!” She declares. “How on earth did this even happen, mumma? You hate people.”

Bea shrugs wordlessly, squeezing Allie’s hand in hers tightly as she stares into her daughter’s slightly-pixelated, yet unmistakably no-nonsense face.

“Nuh uh. That won’t do. A shrug is not an answer, mumma. Can I ask her some questions, at least?” she says.

“She’s right here and she’s called Allie.” Says Bea a mite defensively at the same time as Allie says “Sure Debbie, -a-ask away.” The slight stutter of Allie’s response and something about the pitch of her voice make Bea feel a need to put her at ease and she draws their joined hands onto Allie’s knee, rubbing soothing circles.

Debbie rubs her hands together, in an imitation of curiosity but it’s half-hearted, because she’s still clearly so surprised. “How’d you meet?” she asks., her voice heavy with curiosity and surprise.

Bea can hear Allie draw in a deep breath before answering. “Through Bridget and Franky. I was having drinks with them and....your mum was there. I liked her straight away.”

Bea smiles, memory loosening her vocal chords. “Which is weird, as our introduction was me jumping out of my skin and emptying Bridget’s wine into a bowl of chips.” she says.

“Classic mum.” Says Debbie appreciatively. “She’s been jumpy since I remember.” Allie’s hand flips Bea’s hand over on her lap, and strokes lines down her palms, and Bea releases a breath she didn't even know she was holding,

“Shit! This is huge, mumma!” Says Debbie.

“Language.” Says Bea again, wondering why she’s even bothering. Debbie is her child, after all. She’s going to swear a bit.

“I...yeah, sorry mum.” Says Debbie, looking a little sheepish. I’m just shocked. That you met someone. That you liked her enough to invite her home. You hate people.”

“Not all people.” Says Bea, realising too late that that may not be her best means of defence.

“Okay, you hate people unless they’re me, Franky or Bridget. Or Allie I guess.” Says Debbie, grinning smugly. “I mean, c’mon mum. That’s accurate, right?”

“I like other people.” Says Bea stubbornly. She can feel Allie shaking with suppressed laughter next to her.

“Name one.” Says Debbie challengingly. 

“Um. So I can’t remember his name but I really like my coffee barista.” Says Bea. “He doesn’t try and talk to me. Just makes my coffee and gives it to me. It’s nice.”

Debbie bursts into giggles. “I’m sorry mum. it’s just... you claim you like like someone because you don’t know your name and they don’t try and talk to you? That’s...kind of hilarious.”

“You’re really not helping your own defence, babe.” Says Allie in an undertone that Debbie must somehow catch, because she starts giggling again.

“Thanks you two.” Says Debbie. “You kinda turned my shitty day around.”

“Language.” says Bea half-heartedly, but she’s not fooling anyone. 

Next to her, she can hear Allie clearing her throat, moving her hand from Bea’s to wipe it against her jeans. “Can I say something, Debbie??” she asks softly.

Debbie nods, her smile disappearing. “Course.” She says.

“I know It’s really new but...I really, really like your mum.” She says, and Bea, who can sense the tremor in her tone, grabs her hand again. Allie looks over at her and for a second their eyes meet as Allie continues, “She’s amazing and I’m in this as long as she’ll have me.” she continues.

Debbie’s eyes widen. “I guess that answers the ‘what are your intentions’ question I was going to try and weave into the convo next.” She says. “I...like you so far, Allie.” she says.

Allie smiles as widely as Bea has ever seen her smile. “That means everything. Thank you Debbie. I’ll do my best to continue to be likeable” She says quietly.

“Yeah. Thank you, my very nosy daughter.” Says Bea, playing at teasing her daughter, but feeling her heart race with joy at how in this Allie seems.

“Hey will you both lean in a bit?” Debbie asks.

“Why?” they say in unison and Debbie just shakes her head. “Answering me together...that’s really gross, you guys.” she says playfully. 

“Still haven’t said why.” Bea says, but she can feel her cheeks reddening at Debbie’s comment.

“Oh. I’m gonna take a photo of you both – a screenshot.” Says Debbie. “I gotta document it when mumma here meets someone she doesn’t hate. It’s such a rare occurrence.” 

Bea shakes her head at her daughter, but willingly leans in so her head and Allie’s are next to each other's. She knows she’s smiling like an idiot. But despite her daughter’s mockery it makes her oddly happy that they’ll have a photo of this – the night they first met.

“Okay. Done. I’ll send it to you later.” says Debbie. 

“Just me right?” Says Bea, a tad anxiously. “I need a few days before Franky finds out to put Allie into protective custody.”

Debbie smiles. “If you were anything like this earlier, she probably already knows.” She comments. “Don’t think I haven't noticed you two weirdos smiling at each other and holding hands.” 

Bea flushes, but keeps her hand clutching firmly around Allie’s, “Busted.” she says, echoing Allie’s earlier words. 

“Anyway,” Debbie continues, “I’m gonna go and get some sleep. Early class tomorrow. My cramps are now long-gone, and so’s my bad day. Nice to meet you Allie.”

“So nice to meet you too.” says Allie sincerely.

“And mumma.” Adds Debbie. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you to cheer me up, I just didn't think it’d be with me introducing me to your girlfriend.”

Bea grins at her daughter. “New to me too, kiddo.” she says, and even she knows they both look like grinning idiots. “Love you to the moon and back, Deb.”

“To the moon and back.” Debbie repeats, and Bea disconnects the call.

“Wow.” Says Allie, cuddling into Bea. “I can’t believe I met your daughter. Think I did okay?”

“You did amazingly.” Says Bea softly. “She likes you. I can tell.”

Thank fuck.” Says Allie, turning to face Bea and curving a hand around her cheek. “Cause I really like her mum, you know.”

Bea smiles, nuzzling into Allie’s hand and smiling widely. “I really, really like you too.” she says softly before leaning in to kiss her.” And the word ‘really’ echoes in her head for ages after, because she knows that it’s the worlds biggest understatement.

She comes to at 4am, with Allie cuddled next to her on the narrows couch. She looks incredibly peaceful in sleep, her lashes impossibly long, her face incredibly peaceful in sleep.

“Allie.” She says, running a hand through her wild, fair locks to bring her to. “Allie. Wake up.” Even as she wakes Allie, she’s shocked that this is her life. Grateful too.

Allie’s eyes flutter open, and she grins. “Can’t believe yesterday was real.” she murmurs. “Can’t believe you’re real.”

Bea can’t help it. She kisses her. It’s quick and a little sloppy because they’re both half asleep. “Wanna-uh...” she blushes “Not in that way... but wanna come lie down in bed with me?” she asks.

Allie huffs out a tired giggle. “Not in that way, yes.” she says sleepily. “But if it was in that way, yes too.” she continues, proffering her hand.. “lead the way, gorgeous.”

Bea leads her upstairs, thanking her lucky stars that she tidied her room yesterday. She gives Allie some pyjamas and a spare toothbrush and surprises herself by pressing a kiss to the younger blonde’s lips before pointing out the en-suite.

She finds some pyjamas of her own and goes into Debbie’s bathroom to change clothes, shivering a little at the strange, new reality that has Allie waiting for her in her room. 

Aside from Debbie, she hasn’t shared a bed with anyone since Harry and she’s nervous as hell, but excited, too. To maybe have Allie close to her for that long. To wake up with her.

When she returns to her room, Allie is sitting on the bed, looking a little uncertain. “Uh...which side do you want?” Allie asks, smiling shyly and looking absolutely adorable in Bea’s pyjamas. Something about her sweetness makes Bea want to press a kiss to her lips. So she leans over and does just that, surprised at her own bravery.

“You choose.” she says, pressing one more kiss to Allie's lips before gesturing back toward the en-suite. “Just have to brush my teeth. Won’t be long.” Allie nods, smiling at her slightly dopily and it makes Bea feel distracted enough to trip over her own feet a little as she heads toward the en-suite. She can hear Allie laughing softly as she backs out of the room, face aflame.

When she returns to the bed, Allie is snuggled in on the right side so she hops in on the left one. For a second they both lie there, not touching, eyes on the roof. Then Allie wriggles back, so her back is pressed against Bea’s front.”

“This okay?” Allie murmurs.

Bea pulls Allie’s warm, soft body more tightly against her. “Yeah.” she says honestly, so tired, but so utterly content. “It’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this was easy. Reading back over it and editing it? Not so much. I literally shredded and reformed every paragraph. But I think I;m halfway okay with how this turned out.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I honestly really do appreciate it.
> 
> I really hope everyone is safe and well. The world is a scary place right now. Thank goodness for writing, reading, music and Netflix or I'd be climbing the walls.


	5. I'm going to trust you, babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. Bea gets anxious. They talk a bit. And stuff. It is short, sorry. But it is something at least. I am hoping it'll spur me into getting this and my other story done.

An obnoxious humming noise hurtles Bea into unwilling semi-wakedness and she gropes blindly to her left hoping to find the phone on her bedside table.

But the bedside table isn’t where it usually is, and instead of a hard, flat surface her hands come into contact with something soft and curved and warm which pebbles when her hand grasps it. And then she hears a sharp intake of breath next to her and last night floods back into her bewildered brain, zapping warmth into every inch of her.

She suddenly realises where her hand is and snatches it back, now completely uninterested in the still-humming phone. Flushing furiously and averting eye contact she tries to formulate something to say. But what the fuck can she say after that?

“Morning. Um-sorry about that.”

I thought you were my phone, she almost adds. But thankfully, she manages to filter that one out.

She can peripherally see Allie sitting up and looking at her and she wants – badly – to face her. To see what the morning light looks like on her beautiful face. But she’s scared to even look up, wondering if her morning blunder was too much. If her inherent social awkwardness is a step more than any sane human such as Allie can be bothered with.

Fear bubbles up inside Bea until she feels Allie’s lips pressing a kiss to her cheek. She jumps a little, even as her cheek tingles.

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to make you jump” Allie sounds more sweetly apologetic than anyone needs to sound when they did nothing wrong, and it sparks bravery in Bea. She turns to face Allie, sitting up in the bed and crossing her legs, unable to resist smiling at the reality of that beautiful face next to her...in bed.

“Hi.” she says, inwardly cursing herself for such a stupid, monosyllabic non-statement. Allie seems happy enough with the single word, sitting herself up as well and grinning blindingly back at Bea. Filled with uncertainty, Bea manages a tremulous smile back at Allie before returning her eyes to her lap.

“Hi yourself.” Allie returns. “Still like me in the harsh light of day, Bea Smith?”

Bea giggles, her fear dissipating at Allie’s words. She lifts her eyes to look at her, wishing she had a shred of bravery along with the joy, so that she could close the space between them and press a kiss to Allie’s appealingly pink cheek. “Course.” She says shortly, desperately sifting through her brain to find a similarly funny or at least a non-needy way ask Allie a similar question.

Nothing comes and eventually the silence feels too long but Bea can’t even remember what she was trying to say. Let alone think of a single thing to break it. The word ‘oh’ which is still drifting cruelly around her subconscious as if to mock her social ineptitude and she wonders for the millionth time why Allie is bothering with her. She’s so bad at this. So awkward. Why the FUCK can’t she just carry out a normal conversation?

Allie’s hand extends across the space, gently stroking her cheek. “Where did you go, beautiful? She asks softly.

Bea can’t help but lean into Allie’s hand a little, the word beautiful sending a hope zipping through her doubt-scattered mind. Then she retreats, trying to remember what the hell she was trying to say. “I...I don’t even remember.” she confesses. “I got nervous. You look so...” she shakes her head at loss for words. “I can’t even find a word for how fucking stunning you are.” she says, talking now to her hands, rather than the beautiful face before her. “And I own a mirror.” She continues. “I’ve seen myself first thing in the morning so I know that you’re not seeing me at my best right now... not that I’m ever really at my best...I mean...”

At some point in her rant Allie must have moved closer to her. Because when she interrupts Bea’s stream-of-consciousness ramble it is quiet and fervent. 

And right in her ear.

“Babe you’re beautiful. Your hair is tousled and stunning, your cheeks are deliciously red. I’m sorry I was so quiet at first because I think you got worried.”

Bea smiles at her, her mind circling the endearment that just fell from Allie's lips. Babe. She wonders if she is brave enough to call Allie that, too. Because she is SUCH a babe. And it would be nice to call her that word, and not think it over. She finds she wants to, but she isn't brave enough, in the moment. “You’re allowed to be still half-asleep, Allie.”

Allie snorts, and Bea is stunned to see her flush a deep pink. “I...I wasn’t half-asleep.” she says. I lost my mind a little when you woke me.... that way.”

“Oh.” Says Bea. And then cringes. That fucking word. But Allie just nods, laughing.

“Oh is right. As in oh my GOD!!!” Says Allie. I just wanted to pull you on top of me and kiss you stupid. But then I also wanted to be respectful. And because I just woke up I was worried that I looked like the creature from the black lagoon.”

“You didn’t. You really, really didn’t. Don’t, I mean. “Says Bea. “You looked...look...untouchable.”

Allie smiles, her blue eyes glittering in the early morning light. “So, touch me.” she says, her voice a little daring. Bea feels her heart rate speed up, her mind a blur of excitement.

“Where?” says Bea, her voice coming out croaky.

“Where ever.” Says Allie, her voice similarly low-pitched, her blue eyes dark and endlessly appealing.

Something about the look in Allie’s eyes is so intoxicating that the words don’t paralyse Bea. Instead they thrill her to shreds.

She reaches for Allie’s face, her hand coming out to cup the curved cheek she wanted to kiss earlier. Her hands are shaking, and excitement makes her a little clumsy, but she keeps it in her grasp. The space between them is slight and she’s moving swiftly, but she parts with every centimetre of it consciously. This is her life, this really, really is her life. But it’s so different and so much better than anything she imagined for herself. Such a rush, to even be near Allie. And Allie said anywhere, freed her. So she can kiss her like she wants to now. Anywhere.

Their lips bump together a little, because Bea is shaking so much. But when Allie goes to retreat Bea pulls her back in a little clumsily, cupping both hands to the back of her head. She doesn’t know quite how to explain that this is just joy, in a body not used to it. Just a million, suddenly good things in her world that only had Debbie to cherish before.

But words aren’t her thing. Never have been really. And clearly seeing Allie’s beautiful face is not somehow going to make her a fucking wordsmith. So she hopes her actions will say some of what she cannot and pulls Allie closer, kissing her the way she never wanted to kiss anyone. Kissing her in a way that feels like a dream, holding her tightly, pressing limb against limb, letting the heat of their bodies together guide her.

They’re both breathless when they part and Bea is shocked to realise that they’re lying down. Characteristically, Allie breaks the silence first.

“Christ Bea!” she says, breathlessly. Her cheeks pink, her her smile as wide and beautiful as any sunrise. “So when I said where ever I didn’t realise I’d feel it everywhere. Wow. Have you been saving that one up to make sure I get nothing done today because I’m busy day-dreaming about you?”

Bea snorts. “Yeah.” she says unthinkingly before her brain catches up to her. Her face flames and she shakes her head at herself. “Um, not what I meant. I just mean that I ’ve never been into any of that stuff. But with you I really am”

Allie’s sits up a little, her shirt sleeve sliding off her shoulder so it is bare and pale gold in the light. “So...your first answer then?”

Bea huffs out a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Really...you’re choosing the monosyllable?” she says.

Allie just nods, shifting closer to Bea again and excitement and hope make Bea feel almost high with joy. 

“I fucking love your monosyllables.” Says Allie.

Bea hears herself make a makes a sound of disbelief and just as she is about to apologise for it when Allie starts talking again.

“When we first met you were the master of the monosyllable.” She says. “And you couldn't have been more irresistible. Because for all that quiet, you expressed SO much.”

Bea shakes her head, unable to get what on earth Allie could be suggesting at. “Like what? How to be awkward? How to make a fucking mess of things?”

Allie presses a kiss to Bea’s lips. There is something so soft about her kiss, so reverent. Her hands stroking Bea’s hair, tickling over her cheeks, smoothing down her back, leaving tingles of warmth in her wake.

“Like how to be more beautiful than everyone around you and have no fucking idea” she says. “Babe, you could stop traffic with those cheekbones and you just don't know it. She leans into Bea’s side again, pressing a kiss to her cheek, her forehead, her chin.

Bea doesn't think she has ever been kissed on the chin before. And she’s baffled by how nice it is. How fucking amazing all of it is. She’s kind of lost in thought but when she starts paying attention again, she cannot help but wonder what she missed. Nobody talks to her like this, sees her like this.

“You are quiet because you think things through.” Says Allie, and her face is thoughtful, like she has really considered why Bea is the way she is. Like it is a beautiful thing to behold rather than a burden.

“I’m too quiet.” Bea argues, not even sure why she’s doing it, except that she feels like a fraud amidst the praise. Like Allie must be seeing more than what is there. “I’m awkward and unsociable.”

Allie smiles, not disagreeing, but somehow making Bea feel good about all her worst qualities with just the clear regard in her expression. “You may not hit many words-per-minute targets,” she continues, “but God, you make me laugh more than anyone has ever. And you’re so fucking thoughtful. And then she smiles widely, her expression a little teasing. “And you’re absolutely fucking beautiful.” she utters. 

“Buy a mirror, you beautiful girl.” Says Bea, something strange and jubilant inside her making her brave enough to reach for Allie and kiss her exactly as she wants to.

She finds, as they get into the kiss, that it is exactly as they both want to. Because Allie starts making irresistible little noises of satisfaction that spur her on, and suddenly she has pulled Allie into her lap, and is pressing kiss after kiss to her neck, inhaling the delicious smell of her as she does, and wondering if anything has ever felt this pleasurable.

And it is strange, but she feels no doubt, no lack of confidence as their lips part. Just a pressing need for more.

Eventually they tear themselves apart when midway through a kiss, Allie’s stomach growls loudly. 

Allie starts to giggle into Bea’s mouth and what could have given Bea a moment of anxiety about being a shitty host somehow shoots her through with pure, ebullient joy. She doesn't know how, but Allie seems to manage to make everything joyful.

Bea gives Allie some clothes to change into, her mind a hazy mess of joy at even the thought of Allie in her clothes again. She retires to the bathroom to change, and upon catching sight of her reflection she is struck with a serious case of the giggles.

She looks much younger and a little crazed, her hair (which Allie’s hands loved to stroke through) is everywhere, her cheeks pink, her eyes wild and happy. For the first time in a long time, she looks her face and sees the pure, somehow-still unfiltered joy of her only child.

She smiles widely, a bit stunned. It is such an unexpected sight to see in the mirror.

When she comes back into the room, Allie has changed into the clean clothes that Bea provided her with. A hooded jacket and some tracksuit bottoms, with two inches of leg and ankle sticking out at the ankle, a reminder that Allie’s legs are long, in case Bea hadn’t noticed.

Which she had. A lot. Because her eyes work and frankly anyone with functioning eyes would notice that and notice it and notice it. But the reminder was a warm tickle of awareness, sparkling the hairs on the back of her neck into renewed awareness. Those legs she slept next to last night. Those untouchable legs that she was allowed to touch.

She takes Allie’s hand in hers with something like certainty, says, with some determination "Come on, babe," and finds herself pressing a kiss to their joint fingers, before she leads the younger blonde down the stairs for breakfast.

Bea’s a good cook. Some time after. Harry was gone from her life, the truth of that fact eventually dawned on her.

Well, once Debbie pointed it out to her.  
...and Franky used repeated curse words to praise it  
...and Bridget used comparatively more polite but equally effusive language to praise it  
...and friends (again, Franky, but sometimes others as well) enthusiastically invited themselves to breakfast and dinner at her house  
...and then Debbie, ever patient, put the evidence together for her doubting mother in such a way that even she couldn’t deny she was a good cook.

Somewhere along the way she realised it was something she could do. 

And now, with Allie in her kitchen, she wants to impress her. Make her bacon, eggs, hash browns. Except she keeps getting sidetracked by....well, just by staring at her.

• She aims poorly, throwing eggs on the floor instead of into the pan, too distracted by the soft sunlight landing on Allie’s face to perform the impossibly complicated task of...placing food in a pan? She should be mortified, but Allie thinks it is the funniest thing ever. And watching Allie laugh is gold, so she finds as she retrieves fresh eggs to start again that she minds less about her stuff-up  
• She gets the bacon out, ready to go in with the eggs, but ends up cooking it until it stinks out the kitchen because anytime she thinks of removing it from the pan Allie does something distracting like smiling or blinking or...being nearby.

They end up eating cereal and Bea discovers as she spoons it into her mouth and smiles across the table at an equally smiley Allie that it doesn’t matter. That she doesn’t care.

Because having seen floor-destined eggs and cinder-rich bacon, Allie is somehow still impressed by Bea. 

It’s weird, calming and yet bloody unsettling.

Oh. And absolutely fucking lovely, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. It's been forever. Life has changed a lot. Or...my understanding of it has. Turns out I have ADHD (both types) which has been a really helpful thing to discover about myself but also a big freaking shock. Explains how often I am completely overwhelmed by things though. And a relief to know why I am the way I am. Processing it kinda put a stopper in my life for a while whilst I got my brain around it but I feel like I understand myself better now...maybe that will equal productivity in writing...time will tell!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I swear that I am resoundingly trying to work on my other story, but in terms of writing it was either don't write at all or get this out of my system so I can go ahead and finish my other fic.
> 
> Also, given the times we are in, I want to assure you Bea is not sick, just nervous. I get clumsy and cough-riddled a lot when I have crushes on people so I decided to give her that charming trait for entertainment value.
> 
> This is not going to be a drawn-out fic anyway because it's coming out faster than anything I have written in my life thus far. Aiming for three parts, four at most.
> 
> Title is from a Sara Bareilles song, The Light. I suspect the chapter names will be as well.
> 
> On an unrelated note, I hope everyone is doing okay. I think I'm writing so much as a coping device because the word freaking terrifies me lately. Stay well everyone. Keep washing your hands and look out for each other, even if it is only from a necessary distance.
> 
> All my love.
> 
> LL


End file.
